Not too long ago I was talking with
M.V. about local restaurants. We were purposely making ourselves
hungry thinking of the various foods we could eat. It was self
temptation, much like looking at porn. One place came up was the
East Side Checker Club that was run by Ray Mathieu.
Ray Mathieu finally retired from it at
95 years of age. He started it when he was 30. That means the
Checker Club was long in operation even before I was born. MV said he
had gotten tired of the place, as it still looked the same as it did
in 1969 and still had the same menu. “Not only that, I feel as if
I'm walking into the Q-Tip Club when I used to go there.” he said.
“Q-Tip Club?” I thought. Then I
got it. The restaurant was a favorite for retirees for years. The
elderly just love predictability. Then I took a slight insult at
that nickname...I have had a head of blinding white hair since I was
35. In a sense, I've been a member of the Q-Tip Club since I was that
age.
MV didn't seem to notice the off handed
remark. Once again I was reminded of how this mop on my head makes
me look much older.
As a kid my family would go to the
Checker Club. I hated it. The food was far too spiced for a five year
old kid and my parents would always order for me the same damned
dish, half a chicken with pasta. Today, I can shove Tabasco covered
popcorn into my mouth but that's from eating and experiencing highly
seasoned foods for years. As a little kid, adult seasoned food was
like a grenade going off in my mouth. Too much!
I'd sit there and pick and slowly eat
that chicken, trying to find ways to not eat it. No such luck.
Parents are there to cajole you into eating it all. I did find one
way of getting out of it. I'd deftly sneak the half eaten chicken
into a gap between the booth and the wall. I managed this several
times when we went out on Fridays.
Ray Mathieu usually stood at the
entrance to greet any guest that arrived. One time, he directed my
family to an open table on the other side of the restaurant claiming
the “booths were full.”
After being seated, my Dad, peering to
the other side, noticed some booths were open and wondered aloud why
we were seated here.
As usual, I had to go to the men's
room, if just to move my legs. I hated sitting still for any length
of time then. I passed Ray who was standing guard at the entrance
and I guess I reminded him. He said to another employee, in not a
quiet enough voice: “That's him. He's the one that's been hiding
the food.”
As I was in the men's room, I was sort
of shocked he had nailed the right person who was putting half eaten
chicken into the booth's gap. I went back to our table after acting
as if I never heard a word. I then figured out why we were put in
the open area. There's no way in hell I could sneak food anywhere
there.
I gave myself a private laugh as we
rode home after. I tried to imagine Ray, searching high and low for
that awful, rotting chicken stink that must've permeating his
restaurant. You really had to look hard because those gaps in the
booth were just about two to three inches wide and very dark. I guess
Ray decided to follow his nose on that one. Whew!
I'll admit to this one too. I once
managed to lock the private stalls in the men's room. I found myself
alone in them and it was the perfect set up. I'd go into one and act
as if I was using it and and slide the dead bolt lock on the door. I
then slithered out underneath the foot wide gap at the bottom of the
partition, but I never did release the dead bolt lock. I did the
same for the next stall. I was probably eight when I did that one.
I chuckled to myself when I imagined
customers who were ready to burst and couldn't get the stall open.
After about ten minutes, Ray was being summoned to the men's rooms.
I overheard one customer say, “Ray, I can't figure it out. BOTH
doors are locked!” Ray goes in and I suppose he tries to slide
under but no go. I then see him get the dishwasher, a smallish teen
to do the job.
As my family went to the coatroom to
get our coats, I swear Ray shot me a look for half a second.
**
Checker Club was closed down on Ray's
retirement but then was bought out and rehabbed. I plan on going
there tonight. A warning to the new owner. I will hide food and lock
your men's room up if I don't think the food is of high quality.
Poor Ray. He never did me any harm in his life and I manage to torment him.
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