Skating to a different beat

It seemed backwards to me. At the time. And now, some 60 years later, it still feels a bit upside down. I believe life presents these things to make us think. Or maybe, it’s just God’s way of showing us there are different ways to skin a cat.

One summer, Buddy Wiggleton was a carhop at Frank’s Dairy Bar. It was the strangest thing. A guy working as a carhop!

I think the Polar Bar, just down the highway, also had carhops. I know the A&W Root Beer place in Paris, Tennessee, had them. You may not be old enough to remember the A&W chain, but they served their root beer in frosty mugs. You talk about cold and delicious!

I almost proposed to Peggy Roblyer one time over a shared frosty drink in their drive-in parking lot. She liked baseball and country music. She had freckles on top of freckles, an infectious grin, and her little sister could sing “Walking After Midnight” just as good as Patsy Cline…

But I digress.

Carhops were an interesting entity back in the day. They could be quick tongued if you gave them any grief when they were taking your order. They sometimes donned uniforms marking the particular restaurant you were attending. It seemed like they all chewed gum. Some walked out to the car. But most were on roller skates. I never knew if that was for speed in getting your order out, efficiency of movement, or just simply, for show.

They could be a little more than quick tongued if you didn’t leave them at least a dime or two on the tray! 

All the carhops were females. And thinking back on it this morning, I don’t know why. It might have been that girls were a whole lot prettier bringing your Cherry Coke and fries out to the car. It could be girls could skate better carrying that metal tray. Maybe they worked cheaper in hopes of finding some good-looking guy in the light blue convertible parked out by the highway.

Of course, I have never heard of any couple actually getting married having met in such a fashion. I was more interested in getting my hamburger and chocolate shake safely and quickly rolled out to the vehicle. And let’s be dead level honest here, not every carhop that whipped up to take your order looked like Doris Day.

But they did all look better than Buddy Wiggleton! Which we quickly and repeatedly pointed out to him. If you have been following my little blurbs over the years, you know Buddy was one of my all-time favorite people. They just didn’t make them any better.

He’d give us his sly grin and say, “I can accidentally drop this whole tray in your lap.”

And here is the upside down thing carried to the next level. Pam Collins worked in the kitchen that summer. Frank almost always had guys doing the cooking. I don’t know why that was either. Maybe it was some kind of “short order cook” rule in the rock and roll era.

Leon cooked at Frank’s for a while. I immediately took my eating business down to the Polar Bar. It was more than just a precaution. My older brother didn’t know didley squat about cooking.

But to my everlasting astonishment, Leon was a culinary hit. First thing he did was change the name of everything on the menu. The hamburger became a Herbie burger. French fries were Idaho curls. He put a slice of pineapple on the ham and cheese sandwich and called it the Hawaiian Special….

But I digress. Again.

Pam could cook. It just looked strange to see a girl in Frank’s kitchen. And I know that sounds counterintuitive, especially when you ponder on it for a second, but it was definitely not the norm in a restaurant when we were growing up.

I never remember a female cook at the Dixie Coffee Cup, City Café, or The Steak House. I just took it for granted that men did the cooking when you “went out” to eat.

Both Buddy and Pam lived to the beat of a different drummer. They set their own paths. It is no surprise that neither would submit to “regular.” I don’t think the term “free spirit” existed back then, but both definitely fell into that category.

Perhaps they were trying to be like Leon.

Pam was always telling you how to live your life. Or more to the point, how SHE wanted you to live it! Buddy was a bit more laid back. Each could expand your soul on different levels, in so many directions. 

Both were born in January of 1947. Just like me. Until they passed away, I had never lived a day of my life without them in it. You cannot believe the void they left. 

I asked Bud once what ever possessed him to take a turn at the carhopping gig. He gave me the sly grin, “It paid the same as cooking, it was a lot cooler, and I didn’t have to put up with the smoke in my eyes.”

Respectfully,

Kes