People in the place at noon count: 6
Bike count: 2,000 million
I got an e-mail a while back that I should check out Strokers Ice House on Harry Hines Boulevard. So, I looked up their Web site, and holy ta-tas, there are a lot of boobs there. I was so blinded by jug that I completely forgot that the place serves up more than just hoo-ha.
Strokers Ice House
Months later, I'm driving down Harry Hines, and I see this crazy tattooed building with a mishmash of huge ceramic sculpture-looking shit on the top of it (including, but not limited to: a dinosaur, a hotdog with a peace sign on its dog belly and The Blues Brothers) and about 100 shiny bikes out front. Blinker, brakes, parked.
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the Observer's mission. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Dallas's stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
Strokers is the bike shop, Strokers Ink is the tattoo parlor attached to it, and Strokers Ice House serves up the food. I'm pretty sure you can find tits at all three establishments.
When I walked in, the expected record scratch happened, but I kept walking through it, and I think aside from my outfit (which was devoid of leather, metal studs and/or a plunging neckline) the only thing that made me stick out like a me in a biker bar was the fact that I walked straight to a table and sat down as if somebody was going to come over to me and let me order lunch from them. They did not. I sat there for a while, and then I read the "order your food at the bar" sign and got up off my dumb ass to order.
I only realized when it was already out of my mouth that ordering a chili dog at Strokers is really funny to me. Note that the lady behind the counter finds no humor in that at all and that since her tattoos could kick my ass, I shut the hell up with the laughing. I think the fact that I ordered a Diet Coke was the last straw for her. The two guys hunching over their beers at the bar laughed, but she didn't whip out a shotgun from under the bar and say, "What the fuck did you just say?"
When she called my name and my order was up, I was happily surprised to see that when you order a chili dog, you get chips, some sliced pickles and onions and a side of potato salad. Bonus. The food was all pretty awesome. But they have a sign in the restroom reminding pregnant women that they shouldn't be drinking, and for me, that was awesomer.