On Route 66... Ann's Chicken Fry

This used to be one of those incredible hole-in-the-wall places that only locals could identify for you. Now it's so flashy and perty that I can't imagine anyone could miss it - they even added a gift shop out back. But when I was little, it was a tiny, plain red brick diner, with no fancy murals, no pink cadillac, no gift shop - just dang good southern food and friendly people, and a waitress who saw me so often for so many years that she practically saw me grow up. Dad would tell me stories about when he was a kid, inspired from the memorabilia on the wall, and my folks would send me to play 50s music from the juke box (I always wanted to play "Snoopy and the Red Baron" and "Little Red Riding Hood"). Now I go in every few years to eat, and they still have freaking good chicken fry. Although it's a little strange, because I still expect it to be that cozy, plain red-brick diner I used to know, and the place has obviously grown since then.