There’s this guy up in Seattle named Russ. For the most part he’s cool. Except for when he came back from Christmas break and put a “ROOMMATE FROM HELL” poster on his side of the dorm room. Russ was my college roommate. And I had to listen to him have sex with his girlfriend. Not because he was rude and assumed I was asleep. We weren’t even in the dorm room. He and Janel did this entire stage production which I honestly thought was a poorman’s version of Death of a Salesman Does Dallas. Except Russ ejaculated very quickly and Janel appeared very unsatisfied. Shortest. Stage. Production. Ever. In more ways than one. So, it was very true to life.
Speaking of Dick’s, there’s this hamburger joint called Dick’s up in Washington State (as opposed to the sovereign nation of Washington that recently succeeded from the Ukraine) that’s somewhere between Whidbey Island and Tacoma off the 5. You can tell I’m from SoCal because all freeways are referred to by only their number. The bigger freeways would bully the littler freeways and eventually through years of subjugated trauma the littler freeways would take a gun to work and shoot a bunch of motorists. And that’s why SoCal has so many freeway shootings. Snap.
In any case, Dick’s is a very famous burger joint up in the Seattle area. I understand a new locality opened in Kent. Not because I know of Dick’s Lore or even where Kent is. I was googling for a picture of Dick’s . . . for this article . . . and got pix of all sorts of hairless men well-oiled and gazing at each other lovingly. Eventually, I found a picture of the burger joint Dick’s and you can enjoy the picture of Dick’s posted below. And in this search for a picture of Dick’s there were several articles on a new Dick’s in Kent. Also, the Dick who is the namesake of Dick’s died at the age of 92. That’s a very old Dick.
Russ used to work up on Whidbey Island and would trek southward to visit his girlfriend Sharon down in Tacoma. Sharon also went to college with us and I once told her that her shirt was quite baggy while she was making copies in the library. What she heard was “When’s the baby due?” and when I went up to Washington, Sharon and her mom verbally attacked me for something I never said. Let it go.
So Russ and I trekked south to visit with Sharon and he said, “Let’s stop and get something to eat.” The place he decided to stop was Dick’s. At Dick’s, you cannot special order your hamburger. It says explicitly you can’t special order your hamburger so I had to try. I was chastised and made to cry by the burger chef. I wept into my burger and used the bun to dry my tears. Still, the burger was quite tasty and I was pleased Russ chose to stop at Dick’s although I can never forget the ridicule and shame I feel for purposely special-ordering my burger even though the sign said “No Special Orders.” By extension, this is why everyone hates Starbucks and Nirvana.
When we arrived at Sharon’s abode in Tacoma, she was pleased to see me or was very adept at masquerading her seething disgust. Did I tell you she and her mom verbally attacked me for something I never said? Let it go. And I was pleased to see Sharon, too.
Sharon had prepared dinner for us. What did she prepare? Green chile tofu enchiladas. I’m not sure what the point of fixing a New Mexican dish for me considering I can get New Mexican food at any time while I am in New Mexico (where I live). Of course, I had to ask, “Why tofu and not chicken?” And she said, “Just try it, Steve. You can make tofu taste like any meat.” Not so. No matter what you do to tofu, it’s always going to taste like concentrated gelatinized salmon milt. Google that one.
Russ explained to Sharon we ate on the way down. Sharon was not pleased by this. “What did you have, then?” she challenged.
I said, “Russ, let me take this one.
“Dick’s. We had Dick’s for dinner. All you have to do is pull off the freeway and you can get all the Dick’s you want. Juicy, beefy, succulent Dick’s. I just love the flavor of Dick’s. I can’t get enough of Dick’s.”
Yes. Score. Best story about Dick’s ever.
You would think such a charming tale about Dick’s would have melted Sharon’s irritated, glacial heart. Nope. She was just as annoyed by me as she was in college. Where I only commented that the very baggy shirt she was wearing was not flattering on her beautiful, lithe, nubile body. How time twists and distorts the kindest of words.
By the by, Russ and Sharon are married now. And I’m very very very very very very pleased they found each other. Hey, Sharon. Did you know Russ had a crush on you back in college? He told me many times he had a crush on you. And he moved to Washington State AFTER you already moved back to Washington State. Essentially, you married your stalker.
I only eat Dick’s when I’m visiting Washington State. In New Mexico, I prefer tacos. Snap.