![]() |
![]() |
![]() ![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]()
![]() Little Anthony's Diner 7010 E. Broadway ![]() READERS' PICK: Little Anthony's Diner is beloved by readers (and future readers--see Best Catered-to-Kids Restaurant.) Our readers had oodles of praise for L.A.'s jukebox. Unfortunately, it hasn't been in working order for several years. It is a real looker, though. So basically, Lil' Anthony's has much to recommend it...but count the jukebox out.
A REAL SCREAM: A while back we pumped quarters into a Waffle House jukebox and chose nothing but songs about, yes, Waffle House. The national chain's jukeboxes aren't completely narcissistic--there are a few country/western standards in there somewhere--but who needs Hank Williams when you've got Eddie Middleton rockin' to the "Waffle Doo-Wop"; Alfreda Gerald crooning "I Feel Good (at the Waffle House)"; or Mary Welch Rogers rhetorically chirping, "Why Would You Eat Your Grits Anyplace Else?" Downright perverted is "Waffle House Hashbrowns (I Love You)," in which Billy Dee Cox sings, "You know I long for you/You melt in my mouth/I'm crazy about you/Pretty golden hashbrowns." What's really great about Waffle House jukeboxes (four locations citywide) isn't the bizarro songs, though; it's the psychotic reactions they inspire in the restaurant's staff members. A late-night fry cook who was hosing down the floor threatened to spray us if we selected any more songs about waffles. A REAL SCREAM: You can count on the jukebox at The Wooden Nickel Tavern, 1908 S. Country Club Road, for a rocking and rolling night at the bar. It always happens this way: You're sipping your first whiskey, chilling to Dire Straits' "Sultans of Swing," when a lonely looking lady challenges you to some fooz-ball. But she's not your type, so you calmly ward her off with Dylan's "It Ain't Me Babe." Then, across the bar, you see her: The woman of your dreams. Time to act! Like a true "Juke Box Hero," you spin the Beatles' "Oh! Darling," to show her you'd never do her no harm. She smiles. Yes!, you think, and with startling overconfidence you rush back to the jukebox and select "Let's Spend the Night Together," by the Stones. It's a "Communication Breakdown," though, because the woman of your dreams reacts by slapping you with the force of a Led Zeppelin. Ouch! Plunging into despair, you play Roy Orbison's "Mean Woman Blues" and order several rounds. Five tequila shots later, the Wooden Nickel is swirling out of control faster than the fiddles in "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." You pass out. Hours later, consciousness returns and the bartender plays Santana's "Hope You're Feeling Better" to aid your recovery. Whew, what a night. Whew, what a jukebox.
|
![]() |