EXPRESSIONS

This one, I could simply leave to you.  A fill in the blanker.  That is, what's disgusted her?

Well, if it were actually a fill in the blank, my entry for this day would be finished.  You need a little help?  OK.

She hates her new hair style. "I hate my hair.  Why did you let me get it cut like that?"  I've actually heard that a few times from my wife, whose hair never looks bad.  And if she decided she wanted shorter hair, who am I to tell her no?

Or.  She's had an umpteenth call from a telemarketer or surveyor.  Not a land surveyor but one who phones out of the blue and requests just a brief ten question survey that is needed to be completed by me.  "I was really hoping you would call because I'm never busy at 6:00 PM and full of opinions on that subject," no one ever said.

Or.  She's seen something really gross, or worse she's stepped in/on something really gross.  A few weeks ago, we had an enormous winged creature with hard shell and cockroach-like sticky legs that moved sluggishly across our kitchen floor around 10 PM.  When I first saw it, I thought it to be a small mouse.  When I threw my shoe on it, I connected which  enabled me to stomp the intruder into our tile floor.  I didn't make quite the face, but it was pretty disgusting.

Or.  I, in all my humanity, have left that impression on her for something I did, said, or didn't do or say. I've had that effect on girls from junior high through junior college.  A few teachers, too.

OK.  There you have it.  Four choices.  Or none of the above.  You are limited only by your imagination.

But I hope you don't get that look.  Unless you want to.

CANDY KITCHENS ARE SPECIAL

My parents met at a candy kitchen in MTV.  Acme, like the Roadrunner cartoons, I think.  It stood on the square, south side, where the Register-News building in all its ugliness now stands.

But this entry is about another candy kitchen, Crown Candy Kitchen on St. Louis Street in, well, St. Louis.  My wife, son and three of our grandchildren ate there September 16, 2012.  It was an excellent experience

The line to get into the restaurant at just after 11 AM stretched (you know that's about the only thing lines do--stretch or snake) outside the door.  Unless the customer just wanted candy, ice cream, or a shake.  Then they could squeeze by, make their purchase and squeeze back by the people waiting to be seated.

Old, real old, narrow booths 14 at the most, made up the interior.  They reminded me of the church booths in The Old North Church in Boston that we had visited last Summer.  Even though they weren't, these booths looked older or at least more used.

1913 is the year it opened and for three generations it was operated by the same family.  A few fourth gens worked there, too, but I got the idea that they didn't really have their hearts into the kitchen.

A little old guy who looked as if he had worked there for half the century was cleaning tables and collecting money.  Two waitresses patiently took orders and delivered huge deli sandwiches and shakes.

Lots of sharing for the Quinns who split shakes, roast beef sammys and BLTs.  An obscene amount of bacon which suited the boys and delicious beef.  A big order of fries and two iced teas for the grandparents.  When the little guy totalled our bill he said, "one roast beef--$6.99, we'll round that to $6, and you're going to the Rams' game today, we'll take off some more.  Total for all 6 meals and drinks $33." 

Not bad, not bad at all.

Hopefully, we'll be back on game day and maybe be a little hungrier where no splitting is necessary.