In addition to its stockin-trade hamburgers, it also offered such delicacies as fried chicken patties, fried corndogs, fried okra, fried corn fritters, fried onion rings, french fries, fried catfish on Sundays, and, in honor of the Lion's Club which met in the diner's back room, on Friday nights they offered fried popcorn shrimp. It was quite a happening place. As usual on a Friday night, it was happening for Irma Tipplemouse and Janice Smith. They feasted on the dieter's special, consisting of a strange hodgepodge of food easily identified by a huge scoop of cottage cheese with a wedge of canned peach on top. Miss Tipplemouse came on Friday nights to check out the Lion's Club members. Janice considered the diner her best source for fresh husbands. "Have you gotten it yet, Irma?" asked Janice as she ogled a young man serving fries behind the restaurant counter. "Not yet. But don't worry; I'll keep my part of our plan. There's plenty of time." "I don't know about that." "Surely Stella isn't what one could consider a fast girl?" "She may not be, but I'd lay money on Quinlan being a very fast boy." "I suppose you'd know." Janice tittered.
