chicagostyledog wrote:Stopped in for a corned beef and a Green River at Burt's this afternoon. There was a sign on the wall near my table entitled "Fat Boy's Red Hots." In talking with Ralph, I discovered that Burt was the original owner of Fat Boys(4702 N. Kedzie), one of my early hot dog haunts, along with Lerner's and the Ranch on Devon.
For me to see a reference to Fat Boy's is kind of amazing. It's an icon of Chicago diners for me, and played a small, but significant part in my early coming-of-age efforts in the city. I never expected anyone else to ever refer to it here in LTH-land, though; it's a real "blast from the past."
When I was a boy, Fat Boy's on Kedzie was around the corner from the apartment where my family lived on the 3200 block of Leland. I'd walk past its bright windows and attractive fried food smells on the way to & from school. That's why it was the place I chose to have my first solo "restaurant" experiences, somewhere around the age of 10 or 11. What I desired at Fat Boy's--aside from what all kids that age always want, i.e., food--was to be regarded not as just a little kid who should be attached to his parent, but as a
Customer all on my own. It was a stage to perform a rite of passage, whereby I'd demonstrate my eligibility to be admitted to the company of adults as an equal--more or less. And get good stuff to eat!
I recall sitting at the counter, ill at ease, while other much older guys sat around me, comfortably ordering mysterious items from the menu, drinking coffee and smoking, sometimes bantering with the counterman. I don't remember exactly what I asked for, probably something easy like a hamburger and a Coke. I do remember wondering about the Hot Tamales I saw while I waited for my food--they seemed really exotic, but didn't strike me as particularly appetizing--steamy hot, sour-spicy-smelling, and wrapped in orange-stained greasy paper....
For my first couple of times there, I would just keep my head down, try not to attract any negative attention ("Where's yer Ma, kid?"), and correctly play my role of customer: order, eat, pay, and exit. Come to think of it, I probably had to prove solvency by paying
before I was served. I didn't really understand about tipping, yet...I saw that people left coins on the counter, but I couldn't see how much or figure out how they decided what to leave behind.
I guess it worked. I was completely ignored by the other patrons, but I felt encouraged-enough to come back. And of course, I'd also successfully gotten some food!
It was probably the third time I was in there that I tried to start a conversation with the counterman, in order to develop a sort of connection/familiarity with him like he'd shown with some of the other customers. A heavyset guy with acne in a stained white apron, he had a paper hat squashed down over his oiled hair, and was maybe 18 or 19. He was the only one I ever saw behind the counter, and as far as I knew, he
could have been the eponymous owner of the place.
When he set my order in front of me, I played my opening conversational gambit. I looked up at him and innocently asked, "Are you 'Fat Boy'?" He gave me an angry look and snapped, "No!" before turning his back to me and quickly moving down to the other end of the counter, while a couple of guys laughed for some reason. Confused and embarrassed, I shrank down on my stool, and concentrated on finishing my burger and leaving quickly. That was both the first
and the last "conversation" I ever had there, since I was too scared afterward to go back in again. So much for relaxed cameraderie and being one of the guys!
Thanks for helping resurrect the (bittersweet) memory of a moment in a city kid's efforts to grow up in Albany Park, Chicago, sometime ago....
--Matt LaSaine
"If I have dined better than other men, it is because I stood on the shoulders of giants...and got the waiter's attention." --Sir Isaac "Ready to order NOW" Newton
"You worry too much. Eat some bacon... What? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon." --Justin Halpern's dad