By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
Staff members with Bic pens jabbed into paper hats: 5
Minutes it took to find a parking spot within a three-mile radius: 10
As I walked into Bubba's, I was so distracted by the wonderful smell of friedness that I barely got out the words, "I'll have the Number Two." (Awesome points if you chuckled at the sight of the words "number" and "two" next to each other. "Heh. Yes, you will have the Number Two.") Your meal comes with two pieces of chicken, two sides and a roll. I asked for two drumsticks (which costs a little more because everyone knows that drumsticks are the best, so restaurants put a badass tax on them), and I ordered mashed potatoes, green beans and a Coke. And I got it all for just more than eight bucks.
I thought I'd have to wait for a while before my food was ready (newbie), but the nice lady behind the counter just picked some chicken out for me, slopped some mashers and beans on the plate and I was good to go.
This meal made me so happy. I scarfed down most of it so fast that I'm surprised I even noticed that there was a large chunk of bacon—yes, bacon—in my green beans. I was so happy that a pork product snuck its way onto my plate that I wasn't even a little annoyed when my Coke refill cost me 25 cents.
I really liked the squishy red plastic chairs that pull up to little round-edged tables and the '50s décor everywhere at this place. Felt like a real '50s vibe instead of that inevitably awkward "Wonder when the line cooks are all gonna start sweatily, half-assedly dancing to Love Shack at me instead of grilling me a burger"-'50s vibe that Johnny Rockets gives off. (I can see how the idea of the Johnny Rockets staff suddenly dropping everything and dancing could have sounded pretty cool in theory, but who approved it for real, and where can I get some of the stuff they were smoking? Because that shit must have been just about as good as the shit the guy who approved the Bennigan's Happy Happy Birthday song was smoking. The performance of that serenade is like getting your lady business waxed: no fun for either party involved). Go to Bubba's. You might have to stand in line with some SMUchebags, but the chicken's worth it. I promise.