A scene from a Frankfort, Kentucky Restaurant

Sunday, 6pm. At the bar of what appears to be the only non-chain restaurant open in all of Frankfort, Kentucky. One man is working behind the bar. Another man, wearing an apron and who appears to be a cook, is sitting at the bar drinking a beer. Both are watching the Cowboys-Eagles game. No one else is in the place.

Me: I’ll have the steak sandwich.

Bartender: OK. [looks at cook] Order? 

Cook: [distracted by the game] OK … 

Bartender: [impatiently] Don’t get up. I’ll do it.  

Cook: [snapping out of it] What? Really?

Bartender: I’m 50-years-old. I know how to make a goddamn steak sandwich.

Cook: [to me]: Uh, you OK with this? 

Me: [kind of amused and in agreement that steak sandwiches aren’t hard] I’ll let you guys figure it out. 

Cook: This outta be good. If he fucks it up I’ll go back and make you another one.

Time passes. My sandwich arrives.

Bartender: Look OK to you? 

Me: Yeah, actually it does. [Cook watches closely as I take a bite]

Cook: Taste OK? 

Me: Yeah. 

Cook: Really?

Me: Yeah, it does. Tastes great.

Bartender [to Cook, with no small amount of disgust] Told you I could make a goddamn steak sandwich. 

[Cook laughs his ass off; Eagles lose in ugly fashion to Cowboys]

That night at about midnight I woke up with a bit of an upset stomach but I don’t have enough evidence on which to base a judgment as to whether it was steak sandwich-related.

Craig Calcaterra

Craig is the national baseball writer for NBCSports.com. He writes about things other than sports at Craigcalcaterra.com. He lives in New Albany, Ohio with his wife, two kids, and many cats.

Leave a Reply