Moss, is a free-lance writer from Tennessee. She writes
funny stuff about her daily life or anything else that she finds amusing.
seen weekly in the Daily News of Kingsport, Griffin Journal and
Oakridge Now. She has written for Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books have published a number of her
articles in their Let There Be Laughter series of
books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous other publications, both in print and online.
She is a
former board member and Web
Editor of Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
oldest and largest professional organization
for columnists. She is the Web Editor of
Humorists.com as well as a founder of the Southern Humorists writers
organization.She is writer, edison, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com.
To carry her self- syndicated weekly column in your
to republish an
article, please contact her. It's that easy.
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||The Barbecue Joint...
The Barbecue Joint
were going to an anniversary party in a nearby town. My aunt and
uncle have been married 70 years. Imagine that! Seventy years of
marriage and they haven't killed each other yet, a rare
It was getting close to lunch time. "Should we eat first or
should we find the party place first and then eat?" We
decided it would probably be better to find where we were going
first and then eat real food or fast food depending on how much
time was left.
With modern technology like GPS, it didn't take long to find the
church hall, but we didn't see any restaurants nearby. Once
again, modern technology came to the rescue. My sister pulled
her Android out of her purse and as luck would have it, she
found a barbecue restaurant just down the road.
I've heard of this place," said my sister. "They are
supposed to have really good barbecue."
So, off we went to the really-good-barbecue place. It looked
more like a gas station than a restaurant -- an old, run-down,
country-looking gas station at that.
But my stomach was grumbling and we could smell the smoke from
an open pit barbecue out back. The Android didn't find anything
else in the area, so we went in. As my eyes adjusted to the
dimness, I didn't see anything inside but a convenience mart.
"Are you folks wanting to sit down and eat?" the clerk
asked, noticing we were a bit over-dressed for a mini-mart.
She pointed us toward the back where there was an add-on room
with tables and chairs. Mel's diner was a gourmet establishment
compared to this joint. But good barbecue places are often a bit
Alice the waitress came to our table and asked what we wanted to
eat. We didn't see a menu anywhere. Apparently, they had gone
paperless before going paperless was even cool.
"We have pulled-pork barbecue or barbecue chicken,"
she said, "and two sides come with that."
I thought honey would pass out when she mentioned pork, but it
wasn't the sort of place he could expect to be Kosher. He
quickly ordered chicken, and the rest of us wavered between
pork, chicken, potato salad, baked beans, coleslaw, and fries.
Alice didn't write anything down. Apparently, when there are
only two selections on the menu, it isn't that hard to remember.
Shortly afterwards the food came and the pulled-pork was a
mountain of meat served southern-style with a thin barbecue
sauce on the side.
Our taste buds were throbbing as we chomped down food, suddenly
forgetting to notice our surroundings.
Eventually, the waitress returned to tell us about the fresh
pie, home-made only that morning. I couldn't possibly eat
another bite, but when she mentioned chocolate-meringue pie,
Honey's eyes lit up. Chocolate is his weakness.
My sister decided to find the ladies room before we left, which
was also the men's room, a unisex facility before unisex was
even cool. She returned to tell us that it was dirty and there
were bugs in the bathtub. We couldn't figure out why a gas
station had a bathtub but were afraid to speculate too much.
If there were bugs in the restroom, I didn't want to think about
what might be in the kitchen. I remembered a TV episode of Hill
Street Blues where an undercover cop worked as a short-order
cook and whacked bugs with the spatula while frying hamburgers.
Thank goodness, the paperless check arrived -- that is, the
waitress said to tell the cashier four dinners and a dessert. I
guess being paperless is easier if everything is the same price.
Pit barbecue slow-smoked for hours is a soul food that everyone
should eat at least once before they die, regardless of the sort
of joint that you have to go to eat it.
I hope there was no extra protein in anything. But if there was,
it hasn't killed us yet.
© Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss - All rights reserved
Nashville, TN 37219