The VFW had closed and we stumbled out into the dark night
Our throats soar from singing and drinking and my old friend
Turned to me and asked, "Are you hungry?" and I stopped
And considered the question and finally I said yes, yes I am
Hungry and so he led me through the frosted streets of Uptown
To a brightly lit diner and it was 2:37 AM and I asked for a booth
For the two of us but they said sorry, we're so busy at this time of
Night you need more than two people for a booth so I said okay
And we sat down at the counter like two gunslingers and the joint
Buzzing happy drunks spilling out of their seats eating omelets
A boisterous commune of like-minded spirits shouting at each other
This is where the party is, this is what I've been searching
For this and eggs benedict with crab meat and we ate until we were
So full all of us like moths drawn to the night's last beacon of light.
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6 comments:
crabmeat should be in every dish ever.
Alas, I cannot claim the world's longest sentence, at least one person's written an entire novel inside of one sentence...
Crabmeat is present in every dish down here that does not already contain crawfish. Sometimes, both crab and crawdad can be found on one plate. And we fry everything.
Woah. I should live in Bama.
South 'bama has crawfish and crab; north 'bama has barbecue and fried pies. And you know how sourdough tastes different in every place where it's made, because of the yeast and bacteria cultures that predominate there? My grandmother's north Alabama sourdough bread is the lightest. sweetest bread on earth. And only she can make it.
Southern food is just better. There weren't any bad restaurants in New Orleans when I was there -- you'd go to someplace just dismal looking, and it would still be great. I had to learn how to cook in self-defense.
I like drinking at the VFW. I wish we had diner type places here though.
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