Two small finds on a cold, rainy day at the Brimfield flea market. Both are from the 1930s, both are taverns, and both conjure up bygone days. 608 more words
I grew up in southern New Jersey, a land of highways, strip malls, and chain restaurants as far as the eye could see. Before my friends and I could drive ourselves or imbibe alcohol in public spaces, we were relegated to walking the mall from end to end and getting late night apps at Applebee’s. 548 more words
I just read an article that millennials are to blame for the woes of chain restaurants.
I call bullshit.
I live in “Ground Zero” of what can be considered a “Chain Restaurant Hell” (CHR for here on out). 746 more words