Everyone, at some point in their life, will feel they have been gravely misled. I’m not talking about a minor lie your spouse tells you in regards to some tacky, horribly coloured tie, I’m referring to grave deception.
Santa Clause is the first example that comes to mind, because as a child, you want to believe so badly that he is real – finding out the opposite leads to a deep-seeded feeling of resentment and confusion. You begin to wonder – what else have you been told that is untrue.
Another, far more personal, example has to do with the ice cream truck – one of the most important vehicles in a child’s youth.
When my siblings and I were young, in an effort to avoid the obvious financial costs, and childish annoyance associated with the ice cream truck prowling our street three times a day, my parents devised a plan. Instead of admitting the music we heard, consistently echoing through the neighborhood on a hot summers day, came from a truck full of frosty-cold sweets – we were simply told it came from ‘the music truck’.
It sounds ridiculous now, but imagine being nine years old and being told by your mother, the woman who gave birth to you and informed you on all manners of worldly affairs, that ‘the music truck’ was there to serenade the local citizens with catchy jingles. It made sense to my pre-pubescent mind, that explanation was all I needed.
It’s not like my brothers and I were unaware that ice cream trucks existed. We knew they popped up at carnivals, sporting events and community gatherings, but I honestly believed that in between these calls of duty the truck was driving quickly to it’s next sale location. I had no idea the ice cream truck would actually bring the ice cream to you.
Fast-forward a few years to a playground like any other; kids are squawking and running around like chickens in a farmyard, balls are bouncing and the sun is shining. There I was, 12 years old, playing with my classmates when I heard one of the familiar ‘music truck’ jingles.
“Hey guys, it’s the music truck,” I called out to my classmates on the playground.
This statement was met with looks of sheer confusion and amusement. Laughter soon followed. And it was then I realized I had been greatly deceived. This betrayal shouldn’t have come as a major surprise – my father had previously convinced me that root beer was made from real tree roots – but it did. Children can be particularly cold and tormenting, and the ridicule that comes with such a naïve belief is not to be underestimated.
You’re probably thinking what the hell does this story have to do with Slickity Jim’s Chat n’ Chew on Main Street? Well, not much actually. But the feeling I had after my ice cream truck betrayal is similar to the feeling I had after visiting this establishment.
I was always under the impression diners are for food, and maybe milkshakes, but they are certainly not a place to go for a beer or strong drink. A strong drink is to be consumed at bars, or nightclubs, or upscale lounges, or illegally at the beach or in a neighborhood park – diners are for beef dip and brunch, right?Wrong. Maybe this was my own ignorance, or maybe this is just the stigma associated with diners, regardless Slickity Jim’s is a place you can wet the whistle.
As a background, this restaurant has been in business for 16 years, although it has only been at 3475 Main St. for the past three. It’s a family oriented location, being a diner after all, so don’t go there with the intention of getting blackout drunk – it probably won’t sit well with the staff or management.
It has a distinguished and diverse food menu, one that has earned them nods from many prominent reviewers and publications in the city. Slickity Jim’s has also been featured on the Food Network Canada program, You Gotta Eat Here.
Slickity Jim’s is locally renowned, and for this reason it is not uncommon to wait a half hour during the bustling brunch hours of the weekend.
Vancity Drink Specials isn’t about food though, so lets move along to the drink specials that make this place worth a visit.
Wednesday to Sunday, Slickity Jim’s has $4.75 pints and $5.00 cocktails; while on the weekend, mimosas are on special for $5.00.
Like any good alcohol serving location, there is a Sunday Caesar special, for $5.00 you can take the edge of that hangover, I’m a fan of this tactic. It works.
If you don’t know what to pour down your throat, then take at stab at these suggestions:
- Go to the gym: a strange, yet delightful, combination of whiskey and grapefruit, it was on special the night I was there [a Wednesday, this drink was mentioned on the bar’s chalkboard – can’t attest that it happens regularly] for $4.75.
- Bohemian Lager: received the Ben McRae seal of approval, I don’t really know what else you need.
Another point of note, this establishment closes at 5:00 p.m. on Mondays and Tuesdays.
But, in regards to the ‘music truck’: The ice cream truck deception was a true betrayal; but in all honesty – it was a welcome one. It was only such a shock because I wish I had known about it earlier. My revelation in regards to diner drinking was unexpected, but equally as pleasant of surprise.
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