After the funeral last week, my friends Ashley, Taylor, and I headed back towards Atlanta.
And somewhere between Waycross and Marietta, we got the idea in our noggins that we wanted some dinner. At a local establishment. As in, no fast food. No Subway. Nothing we could find in Atlanta. We were craving some local flavor. Something that screamed “THIS IS THE COUNTRY AND YOU CAN TASTE IT!”
So we pulled out our trusty iPhones and exited the interstate. Using UrbanSpoon [a very cool but apparently less than reliable application], we found this restaurant.
This is a screen shot reenactment [that took a RIDICULOUSLY long time to capture.]
So we found American food for only one dollar sign- Shelia’s Restaurant.
Anyways, we get excited about Shelia’s. Which, until this very moment, we called “Sheila’s”, when actually, we were trying to find “She-lia’s”. Maybe that was our problem.
As we turned right off the interstate, Taylor was driving [like a good Southern gentleman should], I was navigating [worst.decision.ever.], and Ashley was riding in the back seat like this [don’t judge her- she likes to read in the dark].
And I realize these pics are blurry. Myself and Anita the iPhone. We have some issues.
We turn off the interstate and immediately Ashley says, “Well. There’s a sign right there for Sheila’s.”
Taylor and I, being idiots older and wiser, said, “Ok, cool. But the iPhone says the restaurant is about one mile away.” Because the fancy phone will give you the address of the restaurant. Or, as in our case, the address of a gas station that exists now where Shelia’s used to be.
So I’m gonna fast forward the story. 30 minutes later. An entire lap of the city. And we are back where we started. With no Shelia’s and no food and really, at this point, heavy hearts.
When suddenly, Ashley quietly says to from the back, “Um, there’s the Sheila’s sign again.”
Oh. You meant the huge sign. The huge red and white sign. The one we passed 30 minutes ago. Is sitting in the yard of the restaurant. Sometimes, maybe, it just makes more sense to look around instead of trusting ye old iPhone.
We park, enter the restaurant, and sit down. The temperature was hovering between a cool winter afternoon and blizzard-like conditions. We order some warm food, and quick, cause we may be getting charged for this extreme air conditioning. Taylor and Ashley ordered- catfish and salad.
Excuse the bright-to-the-extreme candelabras in the background. This place spares no expense on low temperature and high lighting.
The food was delicious and shockingly inexpensive. We may have been freezing cold, but we had happy tummies. Locally fed, Southern sweet tea, fried with the bad stuff, kind of tummies.
We loved the place.
And somehow, this little blunder on the menu is just simply endearing.
If there is one thing I always want to see on a menu, it’s chips and caso.
Or chips and queso.