Keller's Drive-In

This last weekend Danny and I went to a little drive-in that some of our friends call a Dallas "landmark."

It's one of those old-fashioned drive-ins, where you turn your blinkers on to call the waitress. They serve thick chocolate shakes and onion rings that hold 5 lbs. of grease. But, for $2.65 you can get their famous double cheeseburger with thousand island dressing. And it's the motorcycle hot-spot of East Dallas which automatically makes it a winner in Danny's mind.

We carefully made our selections, being picky about the items that were going to clog our arteries. One shake, one Dr. Pepper, one order of french fries, and one order of onion rings - that way we could split every delectable thing and try one of everything on the menu all at the same time.

The kind waitress brought out our food on a try with her dollar-bill tips fanned between each finger. "Here ya' go Sweetie," she said to Danny as she clipped the try onto the drivers' window.

Only in Texas or South Carolina will I NOT jump over the console and fly out the window to punch the lights out of anyone who calls my husband "Sweetie."

We began chowing down on $2.65 worth of burger, buns, lettuce, tomatos, pickles and cheese. Then, in the middle of one split second our dinner was turned upside down - literally.

In between thoughts and chews Danny decided that it was hot in my good ole Jeep - so logically, he started to roll down the windows. And that tray with all of our food just went rolling down too . . . straight to the parking lot asphalt.

We took our hardest hit when the entire basket of onion rings hit the ground . . . and we quickly decided that the five-second rule was not going to apply the situation.

But no fear. We just popped on our blinkers and out came our "Sweetie" waitress to scoop everything right up and bring us some more.

"That must happen often," Danny said in consolation to himself.

I just nodded in "you just go on and think that" agreement.

Somewhere about half-way through dinner we looked up and noticed a Budlight sign, flashing neon bright on the side of the kitchen. Then, out walked our waitress with a popped-open bottle of beer. She handed it to the man in the suburban next to us and off he drove.

Danny and I looked at each other. "Do they sell beer here?"

It seems like there should be something very wrong with a DRIVE-IN that sells BEER!

But, sure enough, we began to notice all of those motorcyclists were also carrying around bottles of beer, hopping on their motorcycles, and driving off into the night.

And so, we finished our new batch of onion rings, swigged down the Dr. Pepper and chocolate shake, and drove away very carefully, nursing the tummy aches that were already forming due to the tons of grease we had just consumed.

We went, we ate, and we have conquered that Dallas landmark. And that one night was probably enough to last us the rest of our time here!