P.I.P. …

… Pretty in Pink.

Almost every large town has a “50s Style” restaurant. The waitresses, and they are almost always women, sport vaguely period-themed outfits. The poodle skirt shown here is a faithful reproduction, and with the candy-striped blouse on top it becomes a simple way to express an homage to a simpler time. For about 20 years or so a group of my high school chums gathered here on the third Wednesday of every other month—until the Covid interregnum. We are all in a high-risk group due to our age; many of the guys have other risk factors as well. Recently we’ve started meeting again, perhaps this is premature, but we’ve all been “vaxxed and maxxed” with preventive measures.

So… how is the food?

As it was then, so is it now. You don’t go to a place like this for a culinary adventure. Burgers, fries, regular specials usually featuring mashed potatoes, lots of malts.

The atmosphere?

It is decorated with vintage movie posters and period-correct antiques but the nifty Seeburg jukebox, alas, died a few years ago. The decor hasn’t changed one whit in 40 years. There are 50s songs on the background music system, I've heard them all dozens of times, but at least they really are from the 60s. Spotify sound-alikes have yet to corrupt this bastion against modernity.

And, finally, the service.

Practically Perfect in Every Way, Pretty in Pink, what more could one ask for? A big shout out to all the servers we’ve had over the years, every one of them has been personable and professional, exemplary work in a difficult job.