The Three Guys were emailing yesterday and I mentioned my strong memory of the first time I ever ordered something by myself in a restaurant: a cheeseburger when I was about 10 or 11. It was a single-counter, bowling-alley shaped greasy spoon in my neighborhood. What I remember most is how quickly I finished that and paid, absolutely petrified I was doing something wrong.
Oketo answered with a similar, but much better story:
'It was a place called Brown's, after its owners, Dickie Brown (who went to my grammar school) and his older brother (whose name escapes me), who was killed years later drag racing on Dee road when it still known as Forest Preserve Drive. Anyway, same thing, I took my 59 cents and ordered a cheeseburger.
Now, I was afraid that I would be seen doing this since 59 cents was a lot of money to my family and they would not want it wasted on a burger. Like you, I can still remember how afraid I was of ordering wrong or being seen. Once they gave me the burger I took it out of the store and road my bike to Oriole Park to eat it. Theory being it was natural for me to be at the park but not on Harlem avenue--if seen.
So, I get to the park but by the time I get there the grease has eaten through the paper bag and the cheeseburger falls on the ground. The bun opens and the meat lands on the ground. It picks up stones, cinders, dirt etc. However, I was not about to throw away this watershed moment so I scraped off the crap and ate it. It's funny. That incident is so ingrained in my head I can still remember the fear of being seen and the actual taste of that burger with all the sidewalk condiments. Why would those experiences be so vivid for each of us after all this time?'
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