The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Revenge of the Diner Review
23:33 Apr 12 2007
Times Read: 1,018

This is another experience from my distant past. Once again work took me out of town, as it does for so many of us. This time, I wound up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was on my way back to the airport, having spent several frustration hours at City Hall, trying to access regulatory information pertinent to my site and the surrounding area (most of the environmental concerns in Oklahoma have been delegated to the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, or OCC, except for stromwater and agricultural concerns, which are not regulated at all in Oklahoma, apparently, with the exception of the City of Tulsa, which is not under jurisdiction of the OCC but reports directly of the US EPA, and although they do have a environmental department, called the Quality Assurance Department, they aren’t allowed to release or discuss information they have on properties with environmental concerns without a 10-day notification to the property owner unless they don’t have any information on the site, which they can tell me, but if they do have information on a site they can’t tell me and I REALLY don’t want to talk about it any more) when I found that I had a couple of hours to grab a bite to eat before my flight. The first real restaurant I passed on my way out of downtown was Tally’s, at the corner of 11th and Yale Street.



Tally’s has a very nostalgic look about it, both inside and out. Tally’s claim to fame is that it was open when 11th Street was still part of old, historic US Route 66. The painted window proclaimed that Tally’s was famous for their flame-broiled steaks and breakfast served all day. The inside looks like a 1950’s malt shop. Half of the restaurant is dominated by a lunch counter with permanently attached stools; the other half has a few mismatched tables and several booth lining two walls. All of the walls are decorated with posters of Elvis, Beale Street, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and countless 45’s. The disappointment was in the music playing. The radio station was playing current Top 40. I think Ricky Nelson or the Platters would have gone better with the atmosphere that, say, Smashing Pumpkins.



When I looked at the clientele, I knew this was a serious dinner-for-lunch kind of place. The patronage was 95% men, and hard-working men at that. Tally’s menu offers gut-and-soul warming fare that fortify against whatever the world throws your way. Dinner plates included chicken-fried steak, chicken-fried chicken, beef tips over rice, flame broiled pork chops or fried catfish, each for $4.99, including two vegetables and rolls. These in addition to an impressive line-up of steaks and burgers.



I needed a quick filling, so I opted for the bacon cheeseburger ($4.95 including fries or coleslaw). My burger arrived open-faced with the juices glistening on the still-sizzling medium-thick patty. It looked to be almost half a pound. The bun was toasted just the way I like it; slapped right on the grill alongside the meat. Sliced, slightly over-ripe tomatoes, sliced onion and full pieces of crisp lettuce were included. I became much calmer with the first bite of this solid bacon cheeseburger. I headed toward mellow as I finished up the flavorful sandwich. The French fries were not as crisp as I normally like, but were still good none-the-less. The only way I could top off this meal would be with a hand-dipped vanilla milkshake. Alas, contrary to the appearance of the establishment, shakes, malts and floats are not offered.



Three waitresses circulated easily around the room, constantly moving, but never really seeming rushed or hurried. Regular customers were greeted by name, and the smiles never failed as they inquired about recent dental work and relatives coming to call. Those customers not regulars (myself included) were easily recognized by being repeatedly referred to as ”Sugar” and “Honey” by the wait-staff.



*** Three stars, but bring your own milkshake.

Son of the Diner Review
23:31 Apr 12 2007
Times Read: 1,017

Krisnos, located on Hwy 183 between MacArthur and Story Road.



Being the Holiday Edition of my reviews, I wanted to give a review of a memorable dining experience in a first-rate restaurant. This particular dining experience was a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, the restaurant was over-rated and the experience was a blur.



Let me begin by saying that I had company from out-of-town. We don’t get to see each other very often, so much celebrating was in order. Needless to say, we were pretty merry when we decided to find someplace to eat. We pick up a couple of friends from nearby and headed out.



They play an interesting game in the North called “Turn-Master”. The driver chooses the first three turns the vehicle makes, and the passenger to his right calls the next three turns, and so on, continuing clockwise through the rest of the passengers. When it gets back to the driver’s turn, he is allowed one more turn, then drives straight, stopping at the first place to eat (or drink, depending on the game) that comes along. This time, we had a choice between a donut shop across 3 lanes of traffic to the left, and a Greek restaurant off to the right. We chose the restaurant.



The sign at the front door indicated they had live music every nigh and a belly dancer every Friday and Saturday night. Just our luck, the dancer had decided to take this Friday nigh off.



The interior is quite simple, and a bit outdated, with lots of gold and crimson, street lanterns and faux stucco walls. In between occasional shouts of “Oopa”, you can pick up the thick Greek accents of staff and patrons alike. The menus were large, ornate affairs with cords and hanging tassels. Unfortunately, all of the food was listed by its traditional Greek name, without subtitles or explanations, so the menus were useless to us. Our waiter returned with our waters and we started by asking which items were pork, lamb, beef, chicken, etc. He would point to each and give a brief, meaningless description followed by the words, “Good, very good”. I ordered a $9.95 Lamb entrée and Stuffed Grape Leaves. While the server continued to push the wine every three minutes, he was congenial and prompt in serving the Mediterranean fare. I don’t know what anyone else ordered, but some of our choices must have been family selections, because we wound up with a table overflowing with food, including Flaming Cheeses, Baskets of Breads, Platters of Meat and Trays of Assorted Fruits.



Our waiter made frequent, unfortunate trips around our table. He was moderately unfamiliar with English and entirely unfamiliar with Irish Spring. Since we couldn’t really communicate, I didn’t get a chance to offer any man-to-man advice on personal hygiene. His presence could stop conversation, which is not what I count as a positive talent.



Although we couldn’t identify most of the entrees, it didn’t matter much. Almost all of the food was over spiced with the same blend of spices, and the meats and vegetables were equally overcooked. The only things truly palatable were the flatbread (excellent!), the Flaming Cheese (not as salty as most), the fresh cheeses (hard and heady), and the assortment of fresh fruits, although these last could have been washed better, especially the grapes.



The meats and vegetables ignored, my companions began ordering from the bar. Wine and uzo were poured for all. Repeatedly. Over and over again. And again.



The night was far too short, or morning came way too early the next day. Whichever. My next recollection is that of being whacked between the eyes with a club of morning sunshine. I leapt from the couch and tried to fling the curtains across the windows to block out the offending light, but knocked the mini blinds off the window instead. Sunbeams flailed around the room like whips in the hands of morons. Sleep was lost; the adventure was over.



We had returned to the roost safely, but at what cost? None of us had any recollection of a check, or an exact amount paid, but we were all almost cleaned out of cash. No one was smart enough to put this on a credit card or even get a receipt.



The night was an adventure in which Krisnos played an important part. ** Two stars.

Bride of the Diner Review
23:29 Apr 12 2007
Times Read: 1,018

The Someplace Else Lounge…Randolph and Weidner Road, San Antonio, Texas. If unhappy, alcoholic, depression-inspiring neighborhood dives fit your desired atmosphere, then the Someplace Else Lounge is your kind of place. Housed between a liquor store and an auto salvage yard in a small, dilapidated building in old East San Antonio, from the outside the Someplace Else Lounge looks like the kind of establishment where a nice, clean-cut boy such as myself might himself shot or stabbed (or at least get the snot beaten out of), thereby rounding out an interesting, if not dangerous, evening.



Looks can be deceiving, however. When you step inside the long and narrow building, you discover that this is no more than a dim and dingy neighborhood bar. With a grumpy old bartender who looks like he ate his own kidney stones for breakfast and patrons who look no better, the Someplace Else Lounge is a great place to do some serious, depression-induced drinking.



When I walked in (and let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting), I first noticed a dozen customers sitting or standing at the bar, elbow to elbow, leaving no room to add a thirteenth (me). Although the bar itself was crowded, there was no conversation, only occasional muted grumbling between drinks (the beer was cheap; Bud in a bottle was $1.50, so I guess you could afford to forgo the conversation). All of the tables were empty, so I was particularly conspicuous when I sat down at one. The waitress (Surprise!) looked extremely put-out about having to GET UP and COME OVER to take my order. They had nothing on tap, but I did arrive in time for Happy Hour (?). Bottled beer was $1.50, well drinks were $2.00 and call drinks were $3.00. They don’t prepare food on site, however the waitress did bring me a glass of Texas Peanuts (Spanish peanuts apparently mated with habanero peppers, dipped in Tabasco for color, and salted) with a stack of menus from local eateries that would deliver, most of them Chinese or Mexican. I noted that on each menu the prices had been marked through and a new price, approximately $2.00 higher, was hand-written next to it. Since no one else was eating at the time, I took it as an omen, passed on dinner and stuck to the nuts and beverages.



At first, I thought the peanuts were a nice gesture, but after my first handful, I realized that it would take at least a six-pack just to make the pain go away (I was afraid to ask for a glass of water). On a higher note, once my mouth and throat had been properly tempered, I did find that tequila went down as smoothly as milk, and could probably just as easily eaten rusty nails and glass.



The walls of the Someplace Else Lounge are covered with the requisite beer signs and sports posters. A jukebox and a couple of pinball machines offer entertainment to the patrons. One of the more intriguing decorations observed behind the bar was a parking sign still attached to the metal post, presumably pulled right out of the ground, which read, “Sandy McCaughy, Director of Animal Control, City of San Antonio”.



Granted, the Someplace Else Lounge is not one of the liveliest places in town, but the experience makes you appreciate all the more those establishments that can afford to put a door on the restrooms.

Diner Review
23:16 Apr 12 2007
Times Read: 1,018

Welcome to the first edition of Dave’s Diner Review. The target of this issue is Wienerschnitzel (pronounced Vee-ner-shnit-sel…singular). Wienerschnitzel is a chain of restraints specializing in hot dogs (pronounced hot-dogs). They are practically throughout the west and southwest, so you shouldn’t have much trouble finding one near you. Wienerschnitzel is open just about all the normal hours for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Reservations are not required, and are probably not allowed.



Wienerschnitzel serves a wide variety of hot dogs, and many other “dishes”. None of the hot dogs are particularly well made or flavorful, but the price is certainly right. I recommend the Chili Works ($1.99), which is prepared well-boiled with onions, chili, and two kinds of cheese. Plainer fare includes the Green Chili ($1.19), the Kraut ($1.09), and the Mustard Dog ($.99). For the hearty appetite, all of the above “dogs” are available in the “Big Foot” variety (Bigger! All Beef!), just add $.75 more. Specialty dogs include the BBQ Bacon (bacon, BBQ sauce and cheddar), the Chicago (relish, tomato, onions and special brown mustard), and the Swiss/Kraut (is that possible?)(swiss cheese, sauerkraut, pickle and brown mustard), all for about $1.59 each.



To go with your hot dog, I suggest Chili fries and an Orange Slice, $1.77 and $.99, respectively. Wienerschnitzel does not have a dessert tray, per se, but one could always top off his or her meal with a Fried Apple Pie ($.79) or a Cone ($.89). If you’re in the mood to splurge, you can have your cone “Dipped” for an additional fifty cents.



In addition to dogs, Wienerschnitzel also offers “burgers” (read that “mystery meat sandwich”) with an assortment of toppings and condiments. Wienerschnitzel is now offering, for a limited time only (the last 4 years, to be exact) the ultimate gastrointestinal treat (threat?): a Chili Cheese Dog, a Chili Cheese Burger, and Chili Fries for $3.33! (Not available where prohibited by law.)



While the service at Wienerschnitzel is nothing to write home about, it is commensurate with other establishments of its type. I recommend the store on I-20 in Grand Prairie. Ask for Ernie; he has a nice smile and you don’t have to repeat your order more than twice. All in all, Wienerschnitzel offers inexpensive (read that “cheap”), quickly served (read that “fast”) food, in a crummy atmosphere, that may not make you too ill.

Internet games
18:31 Apr 08 2007
Times Read: 1,033

I was playing an internet game this morning where you compete against about a dozen other people on line to complete different word games, then each vote on the responses to determine who wins. One of the challenges was: Use the word "horticulture" in a sentence.



Someone else wrote: You can lead a horticulture but you can't make her think.



I was laughing so hard I missed out on the voting.



God, I hate it when other people are funnier than me.

Spirit totem
22:10 Apr 03 2007
Times Read: 1,044




I have always had an affinity for elephants. Ever since I lived in South Africa and got to see them in the wild in all of their majesty, I have felt a connection with them.



About 20 years age, two friends of mine, one a Souix and one a Blackfoot Indian, offered to take me on a spirit quest, to help me find my spirit totem and try to help me find some meaning in my life. I wasn't doing anything important for a few days, and I could feel that I needed to get my chi together, so I agreed.



They drove me from Dallas, Texas to a place in the desert near Alamogordo, NM. They took turns keeping me awake and not letting me eat. All I got for the first 3 days (OK, 2 and a half days) was water. We told jokes and old stories, played cards, looked at sand, watched birds, tracked clouds, looked at sand, sand songs, looked at sand, etc.



After almost 3 days I was getting pretty bored and irritable. I wasn't tired anymore, but I had lost considerable motor control. I needed a little alone time, so I announced I was going for a walk. They told me not to go very far, and I had to promise not to lie down. Who was going to lie down in the hot sand, anyway?



I headed out and walked a couple hundred yards into the hills when I found a small valley with a creek-fed pond. I thought this was a much better place to camp and planned to tell them that when I got back.



I sat on a rock at the edge of the water, looking out over the pond, watching the reflection of a cloud. A turtle popped its head up and looked at me. I thought it was looking at me. We stared at each other for a few minutes when I stood up and the turtle swam quickly away. I walked back to camp.



I got back just as they decided to come looking for me. They said I had been gone for about an hour; seemed like 20 minutes to me.



I told them about the valley and the creek and the pond and the turtle and said we should move the camp. Jeff said it was time we were headed back to Dallas. We packed everything up, tidied up the campsite and started back to Dallas. I knew it was going to be a really long trip home because I was tired and irritable, and I can't sleep in a moving vehicle.



We had been on the road for a couple of hours and were just pulling into the parking lot of a diner when I asked what was so important back in Dallas that we had to leave right away. Mike said that the turtle was my spirit totem and that I should get something to eat.



I asked why, what made the turtle my spirit totem? I had seen hawks, an eagle, a mouse, snakes, scorpions, ravens, buzzards, and untold insects, and none of them were my spirit totem; why the turtle?



Jeff said, "There's no valley and no water within 30 miles of where we were. What do you want to eat?"



I was pissed! I wanted them to drive me back but they wouldn't; I was supposed to accept my spirit sign and move on. That's why we left when we did and they didn't tell me while we were there; I would have tried to find it again. It's supposed to be a faith-based thing.



So my spirit totem is the Turtle. Comsically, the Spirit of the Turtle in most American Indian culture is very similar, I find, to that of the Elephant in Asian culture/mythology.



I don't tell this story very often.

Serial killer...
16:33 Apr 02 2007
Times Read: 1,047

I have come to the conclusion that I may well be a serial killer. I killed a whole box of Capt'n Crunch this morning...