Oct 17, 1975: A group of protestors calling themselves the Radical Vegetarian League staged a "puke-in" at a McDonald's on the Ann Arbor campus of the University of Michigan. The protestors drank down a mixture of mustard and water, and then they vomited from the second-floor balcony of the restaurant onto the floor below. They said they were "protesting the poor quality of food served in places like this and the fact that fast food chains go into local communities and drive out small, independent restaurants."
One of the minor weird-news themes we track here on WU is that of people who are so engrossed in whatever they're doing that they're unfazed by the building burning around them. (See the previous posts "Can't miss the show", "Unfazed by fire", and "The Smoke-Filled Room").
The phenomenon was seen recently at a Ramen Jiro restaurant in Tokyo. As thick smoke began to fill the restaurant, the diners inside simply continued to eat their noodles as if nothing was wrong. More info: SoraNews24
The Bad Waitress terrorizes customers. She chain smokes cigarettes as she jots down food orders. She penciled Groucho Marx eyebrows above her drooping eyelids and a beauty mark onto her face where a dimple would be -- if she ever smiled. Her smeared lipstick can't conceal sneering lips. Her hairstyle is collapsing crazily around her face.
Chattanooga-based Continental Films deployed the Bad Waitress in films and slideshows during the 1950s and early 1960s to teach Krystal employees how to give excellent customer service. (Yes, Krystal once had waitresses.)
The same actress returns as a nonsmoking Good Waitress wearing a spotless uniform. Her hair is swept into a neat bouffant, her eyebrows perfectly plucked and her makeup is modest. She even smiles demurely.
Good Waitress
The film was part of a collection donated to the Chattanooga History Center. But I don't think they've put the film online yet.
The Linden Springs Rocket Restaurant, located in Staunton, Virginia, opened in 1959. A full-size, neon-lit rocket stood outside of it.
Going along with the theme of being a restaurant of the future, it boasted that it served food "cooked by radar." By this it meant that the food was microwaved.
This has to be one of the few times that a restaurant has actually bragged about serving microwave-cooked food.
The 1940s answer, according to the Forum Cafeteria in St. Louis, was to save money by eating at their restaurant. Based on the menu, it sounds like it was decent food.
I don't think you'd ever save money by eating out nowadays, unless you're ordering from the dollar menu at a fast food restaurant.
In 1941, when Dolores Moran was 15, she worked as a waitress at a drive-in restaurant in San Jose, California. One day she served a local farmer some coffee and hamburger. The next year Moran left San Jose and moved to Hollywood where she achieved brief fame as an actress.
By the 1960s her acting career had ended. But then, in 1968, Moran learned that the farmer she had served at the drive-in 27 years ago had died, leaving her his apricot orchard valued at around $300,000 (or $2.5 million in today's money).
Moran had no memory of serving the farmer, whose name was Anthony Ponce. Nor had the two ever communicated since then. She said, "for the life of me I can't remember the man." But evidently she had made a big impression on him.
Monroe News Star - Dec 18, 1968
Ponce's relatives contested the will, arguing that he was not of sound mind when he made it. I haven't been able to find out how the case was settled, but I'm guessing Moran got to keep the orchard since it's usually fairly difficult to invalidate a will.
If she did get to keep it, then that would have to count as one of the biggest gratuities of all time. Perhaps the biggest? Especially for an order of coffee and hamburger.
Artists Paul Velick and Francis Shishim joined forces in 1975 to create the personae of "Bob & Bob." As Bob & Bob they engaged in performances such as the following:
A piece called Oh great, now what? consisted of eating lavish meals at expensive restaurants in Beverly Hills, then "discovering" they were broke, saying "Oh great, now what?" and being thrown out.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.