Each week, the Cheap Bastard goes looking for a new place to eat a meal for less than nine million dollars. This week, she's full of sugar at Sweet Sue Diner, 3813 Bird St., 469-734-1864. At least, we think it was sugar. Something beginning with an "S" anyhow.
Other times in my life I've heard someone yell "MY THONGS!" over and over this many times when they weren't singing "The Thong Song": 0
Sweet Sue Diner is located right next to a McDonald's parking lot on Bird Street, near Baylor Medical Center. Not only does it have kick-ass murals painted all over its building boasting "burgers, pizza, subs" and "LUNCH SPECIALS," but there's also a giant dry-erase sign out front that says, "In and out in 10 mins!" and "BLUE BELL ICE CREAM." Sweet Sue's diner is yelling so many things at you, you have to go inside and check it out. Inside, the gigantic picture menu is conveniently glued to the wall, just like at a fast-food restaurant. No item on the menu gets a detailed description beyond the basic "cheeseburger," "pizza" and the "Brooklyn bacon hotdog combo" (also the name of a sex move you shouldn't attempt if you haven't stretched).
Since the board outside also said, "Everything (with "Made" erased) Fresh," I ordered the chicken-fried steak sandwich combo. That's sandwich, seasoned fries and a drink for $6.99. When it arrived just three minutes later, the chicken-fried steak was perfectly hockey-puck round and the fries were perfectly uniform too. Definitely fresh, y'all. Fresh from a box.
Do I care? Hell no.
The sandwich was just as good as something I could've gotten at a burger chain, but the atmosphere at this place was a bajillion times better.
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Exhibit A: The lady at the window -- let's call her Sue -- was awesome. Sue made sure I had everything I needed, she refilled napkins at my table for me, asked me how my day was -- she was actually really fucking sweet. Which is why I move that she change the name of her restaurant to "Really Fucking Sweet Sue Diner."
Exhibit B: Another diner had this actual conversation with someone on her phone while I was there: "Oh, I'm glad you called back because you won't belieeeeve this shit. All my underwear is ruined. Yep. All my cute thongs. There were either crayons in her pocket or fake nails. Everything's fuckin' ruined."
Cheap food, over-the-top-nice service and lunchtime stories about thongs?! Oh, hell yeah, I'll be back, Sue.