Saturday night was the annual Lights in the Heights celebration, which I try to hit every year. The streets are blocked off, carolers, live bands and krapaoke are everywhere. The people who love having an excuse to wear their costumes and be noticed are in attendance, some with dogs in costumes, too. Allen Oldies played in Allen’s driveway, which served as the base of operations for the night. I always like seeing that band play outside, as I think it is Allen’s true element.
The whimsy of so many houses decorated with so many lights, plus the whimsy of the band and the cold weather was delightful. It also, evidently, made me want to get my drink on. Boy did I. There, and then later. I woke up feeling like hammered dog shit. The only cure for that sort of hangover is greasy diner-type food. It’s like the eggs and bacon and toast soak up the remaining alkyhall or something.
James introduced me to a new greasy spoon (and fork, and knife, and waitress) yesterday called Aunt Bea’s. This place is located in an ugly strip mall off 45 North and Tidwell. Less than 10 minutes from the Heights but in a completely different world. So much to see at this restaurant. The average patron’s weight must have been 275 or 300 pounds. I’m not kidding – I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many gigantic people in one place in my life. We’re talking brink-of-death morbidly obese. So you know the food has to be good.
As we were waiting for our breakfast, the waitress brought us two cups of butter on a plate. I’d guess each cup held almost two tablespoons of butter. Then, she brought our food. My waffle came with a cup of butter on top. James’ plate came with a cup of butter, though there was nothing for him to put it on. The bacon? Actually, I’ll bet some of the gigantoids in the room probably do that. The toast and biscuits arrived a few minutes later, featuring another cup of butter.
If you’re keeping track, we now have five cups of butter for two people. Well over an entire stick, at least. I took a little butter off the top of one cup for my waffle, but the rest of the butter was unused.