May 15, 2008


Hardees sucks right down to its red, skinny straws. But Hardees fries may be the best in the fast food business. They're a hearty blend of the "revolutionary" Burger King fries (released in 1997, but I could swear it wasn't that long ago) and the somewhat more traditional fries at Checkers. So I've lifted my outright Hardees ban; fries are allowed.

I only stopped once during my final ride from Hillsdale to home. I listened to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and Violent Femmes 3 and realized a lot about Beethoven and a little about the Femmes. They didn't peter out after their self-titled debut.

But before all the driving nonsense, which left me with a spilled succulent, I spent my last morning in Hillsdale. I found a way out of my cell phone contract, visited the old Collegian office, ate at the Palace with Jack and asked for a new spoon because the one I had was "kinda funny." The waitress took offense when a long-time patron called her by the wrong name ("Wendy"). She called him "Raul" in return.

I said goodbye to the boys, got some buddy pats, and took two photos, displayed at right, which I'm simultaneously proud of and sad about.

And now I'm home with Magic Secrets Revealed on TV behind me (narrated by Skinner from the X-Files) and tomorrow I'm going to play in my dad's company softball league because he's sick (more than me). Look out slow pitch!

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Blogger Chase said...

I remember stopping at a Hardee's with you on a trip to/from Chicago. It was not that great if I recall correctly.

May 15, 2008 at 10:47 PM 
Blogger Margaret Anne said...

The food might not be great, but that star is friggin' happy

May 16, 2008 at 12:41 AM 
Blogger Erin said...

Oh no, that is a risky move asking for a new spoon at The Palace Cafe, Tony. If I were there, I would have been biting my fingernails in nervousness as to what the waitress might say. Haha.

May 16, 2008 at 1:29 AM 
Blogger Tony said...

Erin, I can handle myself at the Palace. I asked if I could have a new fork (I was using the one I had already, but it was a weird type of metal and made bad scratchy sounds). She looked down, puzzled, because it was clear it was good enough to use a little bit. She asked why, and I literally said, "This one is kinda funny." She said, "Funny fork for a funny boy," and brought me a new one.

May 16, 2008 at 6:43 PM 

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