If Dr.Bell's BBQ were a chick, she'd be a total slut. For months, all I've been hearing is "Dr. Bell's is freaking awwwwesooome," "Dude. Dr. Bell's. You have to go there." "You feeling sad? Dr. Bell's will cheer you up. Won't cost you much. Way cheaper than going to the titter."
There was a meter right out front, so I parallel parked (Austin Powers-style, which took about 30 minutes and gained me one horn honking, five serious middle fingers and three sarcastic thumbs-ups to add to my Strangers Who Hate Me tally) and ran inside to get in the meat line.
Once inside, I was worried about the pricing of this place. It seemed too decked-out (and way too clean) to offer food on the cheap. But then the angels sang and I saw the daily special: sandwich, side and a drink for $6.99. Halle-fuckin'-barbecue-lujah. I ordered a sausage sandwich and although the bun was out of a bag, probably just your standard Mrs. Baird's variety, soon it was so much more than that. St. FML (the patron saint of making things that are already bad for me even worse for me) behind the counter slopped a half-pound of butter on it and toasted it on the grill before piling an entire link of spicy sausage on top. Win. I went with mac and cheese for my side item and a regular iced tea. Could've had sweet tea, but I wasn't in the mood to imbibe an entire five-pound bag of sugar. Weird, I know.
I can only describe what happened next as life-changing. Taking one bite of this sausage sandwich, smothered in barbecue sauce and covered with jalapeños (that I added because, duh, I want my heart murmur with a side of indigestion) followed by the bite of macaroni and cheese that bitch-slapped my taste buds with deliciousness changed my entire lunch future. From now on, I have to carry a roll of quarters in my pocket for either paying meters out front of Bell's or for punching people who try to cut in front of me in this barbecue line.
I can only assume that Dr. Bell is a heart surgeon just looking for job security. And I'm also assuming that with the insanely good smells pumping out of this place, the Which Wich next door is sca-rewed.
