After seeing the elk, we cut back over to Highway 7 on a side road through the exciting communities of Swain, Nail and Deer. The scenery was still stunning and became more so as the sun set. We were trending east, but the road twisted around enough to give us frequent looks.
It was a few minutes after 5:00 when we cruised through Deer. My brother-in-law pointed out a small restaurant called Cook ies Cafe [sic] and asked if we were hungry. The kids weren’t thrilled, but I was up for more adventure. We turned around and went back.
The parking lot was lined with pickups (we fit right in) and the tables in the main dining room were crowded with locals who stared at us when we walked in. The waitress, who wore a T-shirt that said “I’ve paid for my sins” guided us to a back dining room that we had all to ourselves.
Shortly after we sat down, an older man, rather dressed up, entered the room and started rearranging the furniture. We asked the waitress if we were interrupting a party. The waitress said, “No, Brother Denver just likes to come in once in a while and sing.” At least, I think that’s what she said — I needed an interpreter most of the time for her Arkansan accent.
Our cheeseburgers were delicious, much better than Whatta-burger’s, and the French fries, onion rings and chocolate shakes were too.
Brother Denver sang about six southern gospel songs while we ate. He glanced our way once in a while, but for the most part seemed to be lost in his own world. When we finished and left, he kept singing. Here’s the view from the cash register as he continues singing to an empty room.
It took us another hour to get back to the house. My daughter and I piled our luggage in the car and drove another hour to my father- and mother-in-law’s place my wife’s two younger brothers and their families were hanging out. We sat around chatting and laughing for an hour or so — the perfect cap to a nearly perfect day.
Perhaps your waitress feels she paid for her sins by humoring Brother Denver.