Aw, the memories. My mother was a carhop at a chain of restaurants in San Diego. The women wore western slacks and shirts and bola ties, western hats. Her shoes were standard waitress tie shoes, white.
The food trays were mounted on the side of the car at the door window rolled down. We loved our visits to the eatery for hamburgers, fries and malts.
You just stirred some memories of more innocent times, they were fun outtings as children. Way different than the big Mac. My brothers and I sat in the backseat of a buttercup yellow 47 Chevy coup, we were all under six years of age. |
