The Thousands

Harry’s Bar (still known to Google as Simon’s Seafood Restaurant. Google? It’s OK to let go) is for nighthawks. A wide bar out front is attended by folks who can mix a cocktail with a knowing look. A dimly lit dining room of leather booths out back is where the $17 all-you-can-eat rib action happens on Wednesdays.  According to Harry’s legend, one fellow smashed six racks. Sounded doable. A cheeky G&T to fortify the resolve, and it was my turn to have a crack.

Plate one arrived swimming in smokey BBQ sauce. A true eating champion knows to be afraid of marinade, but this was too delicious to discard, likewise, the limitless spud and ‘slaw that come as sides. Based on another local eating challenger, I tried to maintain meat momentum, but sly old Harry’s is one step ahead – you can’t order your next plate until you finish your first. I nonchalantly asked for my refill and was rewarded with racks like Queen Latifah’s. My body reviled against the abuse. Mopping back the meatsweats, defeated, I pushed the plate away.

One day I will show Six Rack Man the respect he deserves. Until then, long may his title stand. Sir, I salute you.