There is one restaurant within walking distance of the Motel 2 ½ where we are living. It’s swimming in bad art. I love bad art. They serve the world’s unhealthiest diet; huge greasy burgers, thick-cut fries and deep-fried, battered fish sandwiches. Genuine heart-attack food. Mrs. Invisible and I ordered a burger to be split between the two of us. They charge extra if you do that, but we just sold our house. We could buy a burger apiece if we wanted to. Look out, bumpkins. Big spenders comin’ thru.
Everything was dripping in there. The place accepts only cash for payment of the bill. The ceiling and walls were decorated with dollar bills stuck into every available inch with thumb tacks. Aside from the dollar bill decor, there were tee shirts and hats and Japanese lanterns and lucky waving kitty cats and jingoistic slogans like “Wake Up America” and “Pray for Our Troops”. The vehicles parked outside included motorcycles, pick-up trucks and a State Trooper car. It’s a good place in which to express your inner redneck.
We were served by a cute, fat, Asian-American lady dressed in a hot pink sequined pantsuit and a pink straw hat. She called me “honey”. (She called everyone honey.) We sat at picnic tables covered with sweating vinyl American flag pattern tablecloths. God bless America. It was one of the weirdest eating experiences of my life, thanks to the indiscriminate every-kind-of-kitsch-included design aesthetic. Here’s an introductory photo of Mrs. Invisible, the Emmy-winning ex-broadcast journalist, taken just after she ate. Whadda ya know? A person can overdose on meat.
Invisible Mikey 
That’s too much! Absolutely love it.
I have a real thing for bad art America. There’s so much of it here!
Thanks for settin’ a spell, Sandra.
Mrs. Invisible looks truly taken by the environment. Her eyes scream, “Mr. Invisible, I am so truly blessed to have found someone such as you who will whisk me away to such exotic and opulent locales on a whim!” ; )
“You are my wife.”
“Good-bye, city life.”
“Green Acres, we are there!”
I often wonder how well I would really do in a rural environment. I dream of living out in the open, where I can hear frogs at night and see stars; I imagine myself to be one of Jefferson’s yeoman farmers, an educated, progressive, peace-loving man of soil and art, but I don’t think that “that’s what’s out there” anymore. I don’t see broad-minded husbands of the tilth pausing from their gladsome labors under a hawthorn tree midday and reading a bit of Keats. I see a lot of satellite dishes and thought-reducing bumper stickers. I feel safer in the city.
I took the middle path, in the Zen sense. WAY out in the country it’s too right-wing for me. My focused intent took me to the small port town full of aging hippies and artists. Pop. 9,000 but with an International Film Festival. Deer walking the streets. Free parking!
The Missoula of Washington, as it were.
Exactly, Matt. Iowa City would be my frame of reference.
What a great place!
My retinas would be straining with the exertion of looking at all that tat. I’d be grinning non stop and I would go for the fish sandwich, definitely. Mrs Invisible looks suitably pleased with the choice of eating establishment. It can only get better from here!
By the way, the area you’re moving to sounds like fun. Hippies and artists? International film festivals? Deer walking the streets? What is there not to like?
Americans are big whingers compared to the English. They always find something not to like.
Ooh, where is this?
I think I need to visit. Though whether my wife would let me is another thing entirely, a blood test last week showed I now have high cholesterol – three years in the US will do that to a guy.
The name is in the upper right corner of the first photo. You can Google to see what others have written about it. (State of Washington.)
Aside from the sound of their food, this place looks fantastic! I love the dollar bills, that is such a unique idea for decoration though I am not sure I would consider it “bad art”.
True, my erudite collegian. I used the term to amuse a general audience. The specific would be kitsch or folk art/primitive, though the money motif also makes it pop art in academic parlance.
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Thanks for the plug, Sandra!
Mrs. Invisible is very pretty, even stunned.
That looks like just the most awesome place. The sort of joint I’d relish getting fatter in..
You’ve given “stunner” a new meaning, and relish is an amusing choice in this context.
(Lisa is a good comic writer.)
:0)
Mikey,
There are bad art places like this is America too – Wow! I had no idea. I thought they were only found in the small towns on the Canadian Prairies. 😉
I’ll write more bad art-themed posts. I have lots of tales about that subject.
Mrs. Invisible looks as if she is physically torn up about what to digest first! Perhaps the decor was meant as a distraction from the food…or the other way around?
Welcome to rural life…where money is irrelevant, and attitude is everything!
I have no idea what the source of their bizarre impulses were. Some businesses display their “first dollar”, but this one displays the first dollar they get from every customer ever it appears.
It’s the Ms.! 😀
She’s not invisible. She married one.
That place looks awesome! If you’re ever in Baltimore, you should go to Cafe Hon.
Thanks. I’ll put it on the Kitsch List for that town. Baltimore is the inspiration source of all things John Waters. That’s a big plus in my book.