Small-Town America

(written 7/18/2016)

In a small town in the rolling hills of the southern US, there is a no-named hub in an unusual place.  The setting is a man's back yard, and upon approaching, it looks like nothing more than an enclosed tool shed. A small gravel driveway leads up to it, with the only decoration on the outside being the green grass around it and "Not Open To The Public" plastered on the door with stick-on letters.   However, looks can be deceiving.

When you walk in, the smell of cigarette smoke and cooking meat hits you right away.  Inside this tool shed haven there is one long table with dim overhead lighting complete with rolling chairs to sit in.  There are usually a few patrons sitting around awaiting their orders and making use of the ashtrays on the table.  The sound and smell of grease are prominent also, making you hungry even if you weren't upon arrival.  Right beside the dinner table, there is a pool table complete with plenty of cues and the same dim overhead lighting.  Men play and shoot the breeze, telling stories about their kids, wives, farms, or whatever happens to be going on in the town.  Along the remaining walls are one big screen TV which only plays footage from the security cameras outside, and gambling machines which the men indulge in for as long as they have money, some even to the point of driving home to get more. There is no actual name for the place since it is not actually a restaurant, but those in the know simply call it "Alvin's."

Alvin is a small man with a big voice and can be found in the section of the building he has closed in for a kitchen.  There is a small half-door that he comes out of to sit, talk, and smoke, attached to a cut-out where he takes orders.  There is no coming to the table to take an order.  When you arrive, you sit down and he yells from the kitchen to ask what you want.  When you get around to it, you can grab a soda or water from one of his fridges. He does, however, bring the food to you when it is ready on delightfully mismatched real plates, probably acquired throughout his years of cooking.


The food will rival any burger joint and most likely win.  Everything is real and dripping with goodness.  The cheeseburgers are served on Texas Toast, crisped up on the same griddle Alvin fixes everything on.  They are melty, juicy, and fantastic, complete with a big choice of toppings.  At any time of day, you can get burger and fries, steak, chicken wings, and even breakfast (provided that you don't mind ham, fried eggs, and fried potatoes).  The steaks hang off the plate and could feed two city folks or one of the men that frequents Alvin's.  The breakfast looks perfect for something of substance right before you go work on the farm all day (or after you come back). As one of the men said in his smoke-induced gravely voice, "The best time to have breakfast is in the afternoon."

The company, though, is what is really the heart of Alvin's.  Once word gets out that he has fired up the kitchen for the day, the "usuals" come rolling in for whatever he has cooking.  Some run in for a good quick bite, while some stay for hours, burning through a pack or more of cigarettes and a dozen or more stories.  On a Friday or Saturday night, you can find the majority of the town's 300 people dropping in at some point or another.  And if you don't know the town gossip when you get there, you sure will when you leave.  The place may give off a very macho vibe, but real country girls can hold their own.  While many of the clientele are male, one regular says women frequent there too.  However, he did add "Just not many ladies."

A well-kept secret to outsiders, but a common hangout spot for people in the know.  Places like Alvin's are what keep small towns buzzing and their hearts beating.  Just a small part of the quirky wonder that is small-town America.