Scratching my own funny bone for shits and giggles. Lampooning books, music and being a single woman over 40. Recording observations with an almost Seinfeldian obsession for the minutiae of life. Things can get sweary around here. You understand.

Monday, September 19, 2016


FROM 2009: I was taking a spin down Newmarket Road in the suburb of Windsor on the weekend when I clocked all the gorgeous vintage cars parked outside Harry’s Diner. This restaurant is reminiscent of ‘Arnold’s’ from ‘Happy Days’ and as to be expected, is full retroheads admiring each other’s Chevrolets and Cadillacs. My friend tells me the place does a roaring trade. As far as themed restaurants go, Australia tends toward American concepts like the Lone Star Steakhouse and Hard Rock Café. Well I’d like to put forth a few ideas of my own. The Orifice Kitchen: Self-serve at its finest. Patrons select a chipped and filthy ‘decaf is the anti-Christ’ mug from the overflowing sink and ferret through cupboards and drawers to find a teabag and a fork. All tea comes with complimentary sugar laced with instant coffee granules and trim milk well past its use-by date. Today’s specials are complimentary birthday cheesecake and something growing spores in a Tupperware container labeled ‘this is mine-piss off’. The walls are covered with graffitied memos from the boss’ PA asking ‘would you leave your own kitchen looking like this?’ blu-tacked above the water purifier. Patrons that take advantage of BYO should not complain when their Snickers bar and six pack of Red Oak disappears. This restaurant is, after all, a shining beacon of modern communal living. Make sure you leave your crusty crockery and cutlery for someone else to clean up in The Orifice Kitchen. The Stadium Soirée: An establishment for the whole family. The car park is always full and conveniently located ten kilometres in the other direction and the toilets, merely a mirage in the desert. All the essential food groups are represented: tepid chips, microwaved pies scalding hot on the outside and frozen in the middle and watered down beer (that inevitably runs out so don’t forget to BYO). Anticipate your hunger by three hours and stand in a cue while you crane your neck to view the impossibly placed monitors. Hear the roar of the crowd die down as you make your way back to your seat only to find foreigners with hygiene problems have taken up residence. Blanche at the DNA and tomato sauce left by way of evidence. Here’s your chance to dine alfresco, no matter what the weather, and rub shoulders with potty-mouthed yobbos who swear and threaten murder in front of their children. Don’t forget to blue with our security guards before you leave at The Stadium Soirée. The Blue Rinse Café: Embroidered table cloths and napkins smelling of mothballs, lazy Susans and crocheted teapot cosies set the scene at The Blue Rinse Café. So authentic, it’s just like being at your Gran’s. You really haven’t experienced bland until you’ve eaten at The Blue Rinse Café. Our menu offers Toad in a Hole, Tuna Mornay, Corned Beef with White Sauce and None Of That Foreign Muck. Make a selection from our sweets trolley comprising of Pink Junket, Prunes and Custard, Baked Sago with Jelly and Stewed Rhubarb, or just sit in front of the Days of Our Lives with a tray and let our surly staff cater to your every whinge. Velvet slippers and gaping brunch coats are considered more than acceptable attire here at The Blue Rinse Café. The Blue Collar Brassiere: Sit on a fold out stool or balance on the scaffolding. It’s your choice at The Blue Collar Brassiere. Your Kentucky Fried Chicken, mashed potato and gravy and Pepsi will be personally delivered by an idiot apprentice who couldn’t even bang in a nail straight. Openly ogle and wolf whistle our waitresses and don’t forget to trample mud all over the cream carpet as you leave. Cattle and Pig dogs are welcome here at The Blue Collar Brassiere. Patrons please note: we are closed when it’s too wet, too hot, too cold, either side of a long weekend or when the Holden Ute is playing up.


Anonymous said...

My contribution to the Orifice Kitchen, the labeled container "This is mine, I may have poisoned it or not your choice"

Domestic Daze said...

Of course then there is the cake laced with laxettes to cure the habitual food flogger.

Flinthart said...

"...comes with complimentary sugar laced with instant coffee granules..."

That's pure gold. And terrifyingly accurate.

But you've left out the Decaying Sharehouse Kitchen Cafe: Instant coffee, crappy teabag tea -- or that weird herbal shit left behind by your flatmate's last girlfriend who was into veganism, reiki and posters with unicorns on them. Fish fingers available fried, baked, or even boiled. Strange tupperware container of mouldy substances available on demand. Milk comes with lumps and clots. All meals served on disposable plates because the dinnerware is piled in the sink under a layer of grease and horror.

Steve said...

Does the bathroom at The Stadium Soirée include the long metal "trench" (at least in the men's room) which can fit 10 or 50 men peeing at once, depending on how close they're willing to stand in order to relieve their full bladders?

(at a cold day at Giant's Stadium in New Jersey, men are willing to stand uncomfortably close together to take a leak, in order to stay warm)

Anonymous said...

So nice to see you back. Hope all is well.

Barnesm said...

"the Decaying Sharehouse Kitchen Cafe"....and well she should. If this is seen run screaming.

Great ideas, as usual from you Nat.

The dinner in the picture above with the 'big boy burger' statue features in the PC game Fallout3. Mind you the dinner it marks is a home for slavers.

The blue collar also includes the tepid meat pies heated only enough to ensure the salmonela bacteria can mutliply to posionous levels. There is either no sauce packets or its one of those nasty sauce squeeze bottles with crusty blobs of dried tomato sauce all around the top.

Bondiboy66 said...

Ah yes, I recall when you played this game on JSpace. I recall I suggested the Army Diner - you get given a ration pack, hexy stove, water bottle and 'cups, canteen steel' upon entry to the unfurnished bit of bush that serves as the restaurant. Cook it yourself - unless of course it's night and then no naked flames allowed (can't alert the enemy to your prescence!). You may get all the time in the world to eat, or it may be you have 15 minutes to fang out and neck down a brew before you have to load up and move out. Doggie bags not required, just take the 'unexpired' portion of your ration pack with you.

Steve said...

Here's one restaurant that somehow missed the cut for your list....and it actually exists!

Those crazy Latvians, innovators in both porn AND dining.,28318,25194077-5014090,00.html

Lou said...

Nat this is one of the funniest things I have read in absilutely ages. Particularly loved the Blue Rinse Cafe - memories of my nana's place came flooding back and I'm still chuckling now. Awesome post.

DCAja said...

a great blog!

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