At Tommy’s Bar-B-Que

“What’ll you have honey?”

“I’d like a Bar-B-Que sandwich, french fries and a sweet tea, please.” I order without even looking at the menu.

I take a seat in the middle of the counter where I can look through the window into the kitchen.

“You want Bar-B-Que slaw on that?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you wanted sweet tea to drink?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re so polite.”

I don’t really say anything to this because I was unconsciously taught not to accept a compliment. I’m saved from more talking by the arrival of my sweet tea.

I unpack my straw and take a draw on my drink. I look over my shoulder at the people and the restaurant around me. I bet I haven’t been inside this place in over a decade. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has changed.

I look over at the booths and think about where my friend Phillip and I would eat after going to the YMCA when we were home on summer break from college. Eating here with him was probably the last time I was in Tommy’s.

My food comes in less than five minutes. I take the sandwich out of the basket of fries, unwrap it, and I load up the space left from my sandwich with ketchup.

By this time the waitress has already refilled the few sips I’ve taken from my tea.

“Thank you.”

Then I bite into my sandwich.

I’m not a person who generally goes out looking for mystical experiences, but what happens in the split second after I take a bite is nothing short of a miracle. In an instant I’m transported back to a cold fall night. I’m at Tommy’s with my dad, and we’re grabbing a sandwich before going to watch the Thomasville Bulldogs play football on their way to another state championship game. In my mind it’s already dark outside even though it’s supper time. We’re sitting in the back seating area, and the place is packed. There’s a buzz in the air as people are waiting to eat before going to the game.

I quickly come to my senses and realize it’s 11:30 am on a Thursday in July.

It’s the way the bread gets just a little bit soggy. The way the Bar-B-Que hits the slaw. It is exactly the same as it was, not just 10 years ago, but almost 25 years ago. It’s probably been exactly the same for longer than that.

I take my time eating. I want to savor not only the sandwich, but my time at home.

As I leave, I think about the meals I’ve had this summer. It wasn’t too many weeks ago that I was eating on Rue Cler in Paris. Now I’m at Tommy’s Bar-B-Que. To be honest, I’m not sure which one I enjoyed more.

As I leave I get one more refill of sweet tea, pay at the cash register, and head out. For just that split second, I was home again.