Feb 122022

Ever since going to lunch with Janna last week at HILLS, I have been on this kick of finding more family restaurants that appear to have not been renovated since the 60s. And then I remembered that there was this one place I had wanted to eat at back when Janna, Corey, and me took a tour of Nemacolin Castle, but it was closed so we ate at some other place instead. 

As usual, my compulsion to blog every minutiae of my life came in handy when I couldn’t remember the name of the place I wanted to eat (or the name of the place we ended up going to!) but a simple search on OHE learned me that it was the Chuck Wagon Restaurant and it still exists! So that is where Henry and I went today for lunch and I dunno why I was so excited about it – OK it’s because I saw a picture of the interior and it looks like exactly the place you would never expect to see me at but also everything that I love about a family eatery!


As soon as we walked in, I was squealing. This was exactly what I wanted! Henry is smiling because a Happy Erin is a Happy Henry.

This was when I wanted him to take a picture of me with the gumball machines as the background but Henry is unable to master any photographical challenge I give him. Like, who puts their phone that low?? Also, he said, “It’s a good thing I came with you so that you fit in somewhat,” which cracked me up with its accuracy because literally every man there was in camo and every broad there was dressed like they were there with someone wearing camo. If I had not been in such a great mood, I would have had some above-a-whisper commentary, the kinds that always make Henry want to curl up inside himself under a table in another state.

COLE SLAW TIME! It was pretty good! Very KFC-esque, which I like. Additionally, I ordered a grilled cheese which was fine for the $3.95 it cost (although it did not come with the tomato I ordered! Luckily, Henry gave me his tomatoes from his burger that had not yet been touched by the dead flesh, phew). Henry said his (farmer’s!!) burger was good.

(It had an egg on it so I guess that’s what constituted it as a “farmer’s” burger??)

Meanwhile, there was a conversation between three elders going on in the booth behind Henry and involved MEDICAL things which I do not ever want to hear about no matter what the scenario is, like you might say that there is a time and a place for a conversation about SURGICAL SCARS but for me, it’s “never” and “nowhere.” At one point, the one woman GOT ON THE PHONE WITH THE SUBJECT OF THE SURGERY and was practically hollering, “How big were your stones??? How big did you say your stones were??? The stones! YOUR STONES! HOW BIG WERE YOUR KIDNEY STONES??”

I fucking promise you I’m not exaggerating this. The following video is the aftermath of said phonecall, when all three people at the table were shouting out numbers and measurements of stones and I wanted to puke:

We had discussed earlier that Henry would order a piece of coconut cream pie for us to share because I didn’t want my own dessert (we had Valkyrie donuts for breakfast!) but after he finished his burger, he said that he was “too full.” Um, OK since when? Has a woodhick ever been “too full” for dessert? No! I got real pissy about this and started shaming him for his little girl stomach and then cried about how I purposely didn’t even order fries with my grilled cheese because I thought I’d be helping Henry clean a pie plate.

That cunt!!

So he was like, “OMG fine, stop calling me names, you’re hurting my feelings!” so that is how we ended up finding out that Chuck Wagon makes MY STYLE of coconut cream pie!!

It was so fresh and light, and it had WHIPPED TOPPING not sad, limp meringue! And the crust was upper tier. Not quite god tier, but close. I will be returning to Chuck Wagon many times in an effort to try all of the pies.

The bathroom wasn’t anything special but the sink had a floral design that was unexpected considering the rest of the bathroom looked like the kinds in smaller gas stations that you’re actually surprised to find are clean-ish. Do you know what I mean? It had that industrial cleaner smell to it and almost felt like it was a trailer. But at least I didn’t have to pee on top of some redneck’s poop.

Chuck Wagon! That mural made me uncomfy but everything else was amazing and I was so fucking happy when we left. Where should we go next??? Now that Valentine card season is finally over, we can do things on weekends again so I’m voting to make Saturday Lunches in Small Towns Outside of Pgh a weekly tradition.

Then we went to “downtown” Brownsville because I wanted to do a stupid photoshoot because:

  • I liked my outfit;
  • I am desperate for blog content in the winter;
  • I am having pre-midlife crisis where I’m regretting all the years I wouldn’t let anyone take pictures of me and now it’s like I didn’t exist from 2005-2016 aside from selfies.

I will post those separately but as a bonus, here two pictures I took of Henry the Dumb during our Brownsville prowl:

When I saw this sign, I screamed, “Henry! Here’s something that you will care about! Go stand next to it!” He was so irritated because it was right next to a steady stream of traffic and he hates having his picture taken when people are around. OK cool but did I ask??

I mean, I guess I felt welcomed! Although when we were walking around, I was wearing a hot pink faux fur coat and Henry was like, “Literally everyone is staring at us.” Lol oh well!

Say it don't spray it.

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