A & W

 I went to A&W for dinner tonight.  I drove through the familiar drive-thru and picked up dinner for Jake and me since it was just the two of us at home this evening.  Sitting in that familiar parking lot waiting for my food, I was struck with the longevity of the relationship I had with A&W throughout my life.  My. Entire. Life.  

My grandparents lived almost across the street from A&W.  Their house is no longer standing and the property no longer resembles the park-like fairyland I remember loving to explore.  The daffodils still bloom there in the spring.  I always find a day to sneak past the barrier fence that now surrounds the property and pick every single one of those flowers.  I still think of them as "mine."  A&W was always a part of visits to my grandparent's house.  If we spent a summer morning picking raspberries, it was assured that we would run past the fish pond, traverse the path that ended by the railroad tracks, and then cross the street to the A&W to pick up a quart of soft serve.  Soft serve and fresh raspberries are a delicious memory from my childhood.   Sigh.  Sometimes we would head over to the restaurant on Friday nights because the shrimp basket would be the daily special.  And the glass gallon jugs of rootbeer were the perfect addition to homemade ice cream, ala rootbeer floats.  Later, when my Grandma deemed me old enough, I was allowed to walk to A&W with an older cousin (by ourselves!) to get an ice cream cone.  It's lovely to remember those times.

I remember, also, the real fireplace that once stood in the center of the restaurant.  It always seemed so cozy inside when it was burning.

My first job offer was at A&W.  When the Dark family owned the restaurant I recall John Dark offering me a job once I turned 13 (I was about 9 years old at the time).  I was absolutely smitten with the idea of working there and I was probably also smitten with the attention of Mr. Dark!  For years, in the back of my mind, I figured I could buy all the things I could possibly ever want with the promise of a paycheck from that job.  (I never did work there!)

Let's not forget about Dwight.  Dwight was a stuffed Rootbeer Bear from the A&W that my childhood friend, Mimi, loved above all other toys.  Dwight came to all the slumber parties with us, accompanied us to a teddy bear tea party, and was always where Mimi was.  Dwight was another part of A&W that permeated my life.  Dwight, if you're reading this, I miss you.

Remember going to the A&W after high school games?  I remember sitting in a booth with so many friends, sharing smothered fries and floats. There might be a fight in the parking lot to watch in awe-filled silence.  There might be the boy you liked sitting in the booth behind you.  There would be gossipy conversations, sidelong glances at your crush, and so much laughing.  A&W after a game was often the start of a night to remember!  IF you could get someone to answer the phone and take your order!

Once I grew up and had my own kids, the A&W was one of the first restaurants they visited.  By now the fireplace in the middle was gone and the interior had been remodeled.   It was no longer necessary to go outside to use the bathroom!  And there was the addition of a playground.  My kids were raised on rootbeer floats, cheese curds, and Baby Burgers.  

Do you remember the abandoned mini golf course in the overgrown lot behind A&W?  It was the stuff of classic horror movies!  I was probably 10 years old when my older brothers led me through the maze of dilapidated putt-putt holes, disappointed that we never had the chance to play a round.  Today there are apartments in that space.  Always makes me kinda sad.

I can only hope that this iconic restaurant stays around for the remainder of my life.  Maybe that's where someone can sprinkle a few of my ashes someday.