Back in 1959, when I was 12, there was a cafe in Roswell NM named THE AMERICAN CAFE.
My dad took us to it one night after he got paid. we ordered hamburgers, he got chicken fried steak.
We went back to the restroom and saw the cook chopping up a piece of watermelon on the meat block and stuffing it in his mouth like there was no tomorrow. I got a bad feeling about the place.
When the food was served, we found the tomato rotten and took it of. The meat was over done, and my little sister, who loved hamburgers refused to eat it after one bite.
My dad’s chicken fried stead looked GREAT They even included an extra roach in the mix. We got up and left, he paid, the went out onto the public street and puked his guts out. Everyone must have thought he was drunk, BUT HE WAS NOT!
The next bad experience was when I stopped at a hamburger stand back in the 1970s, and the woman preparing the food suddenly put her hands over her nose, sneezed into her palms, wiped off on her apron, then went to handling the food. We left.
My wife, when a child in Atlanta, had an interesting experience. They went to a good hamburger place to get burgers. Her father got up to go to the restroom and got a glimpse of the cook pressing the meat into patties by placing the ball of meat under his arm pit, pressing down, then putting the meat on to cook. They immediately left.
A work companion went to a popular (with drunks) bar and grill over in Oklahoma. While drinking he ordered a hamburger.
A few minutes later he looked over and saw the cool with the spatula in one hand, and his other hand had his index finger run up his nose picking out burgers and flipping them away. He decided he didn’t need the burger.
and his other hand had his index finger run up his nose picking out burgers and flipping them away
You can’t imagine what kind of visual I got from that typo!