The Sonic
Welcome to Sonic! May I take your order please?
Do you have a Sonic Drive-in in your city or town? I’ve been eating at and hanging around the Sonic for years. Especially so as teenager and young adult male when I owned and drove all my hotrod cars. The first Sonic we ever had in Fort Smith was located on North Greenwood near Sally Ann’s. Everyone hung out there. As a matter of fact, it was actually a part of the cruise. I did burnouts in my Chevelle through the Sonic. I got into physical altercations there. Hell, I even dated some of the good lookin’ Sonic carhops - blondes, brunettes and redheads. If they had big tits and got off at ten, I took them riding around with me and tried to get in their pants. One girl had tits so big you could see her nipples through her bra, shirt and Sonic uniform top all three! Oops! Kind of got off the subject there. I smoked pot at the Sonic, spiked my Sonic cherry limeades with gin, and snorted speed and cocaine off of aluminum Sonic trays. I was one of the guys sitting in a cool car with the hood off so all the passersby could see my solid chrome big block with a polished tunnel ram and two fours.
I remember when they filmed segments of “The Simple Life” starring Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton at Sonic 2 in Van Buren. Pretty big deal for Hollywood to be doing stuff in our little part of the world. There use to be a carhop at that same Sonic who always bought weed. On payday she’d call me up from work having gathered money from all the other carhops, cooks, and even the manager. And I’d deliver bags of pot to them at the back door. Needless to say, all the employees at that particular Sonic were stoned. I really liked the carhop named Suzanne. A petite little bleach blonde, she reminded me of Gwen Stefani formerly of the Anaheim California rock band No Doubt. Yeah, cops, firemen and city council members all ate lunch at the Van Buren Sonic. And believe it or not, I even sold pot to some of them too. I once met a state trustee driving a deputy’s car at the Sonic to slip him a bag. He’d just taken the car in for a lube. I sat in the cruiser with him for a moment. First time I’d ever been in the front of a cop car. The carhop who brought out our drinks didn’t know what to think she saw the two of us sitting there taking hits off a bong!
I wasn’t the only one breaking the law at the Sonic by selling their employee weed. Hell, some of them sold weed and speed too. Then there were the burglaries and robberies and the sex freak that use to flash the carhops. He’d pull up in his Firebird, order a drink, and wait for the teenage girl to bring his Slushy. When she finally arrived and handed it to him and said, “That’ll be 95c sir.” There he’d sit with a dollar bill in one hand and his dick in the other. Fortunately, the sick and twisted pervert finally got busted and sent to the joint. Then there was the time when a huge fist fight broke out between a young group of high school hoods that called themselves the Southside Delts. Apparently, a couple of these boys had rednecked a little friend of my cousin Dean’s and whipped his ass. Dean and his friend Larry, not wanting the little pieces of shit to get away with it, decided to retaliate and take on the whole group. To make a long story short, Dean and Larry both got their asses kicked. But not before they tore down the entire white picket fence surrounding the Sonic first.
Many a time I pulled up at the Sonic tripping so hard on LSD that I couldn’t even order my drink. I’d push the button on the pole and when the chick said, “Welcome to the Sonic! May I take your order please?” I’d just laugh and laugh and laugh! And there wasn’t even anything funny. Don’t know why that always happened. Guess it was something like a tradition for me. Do you don’t know how many times I stole that Sonic tray so I could roll joints on it or take it home so I could clean out my weed! Everyone knew they were good for sifting the seeds using their driver’s license. All the seeds neatly rolling to the bottom lip of the tray. Hell, everyone I knew had at least one Sonic tray at home and many had another in their car. And for a while there, my freezer at home was stuffed full of burgers I’d traded for pot. Cases upon cases of pre-made patties snuck to me out the back door. Yeah, I ate Sonic food even when I didn’t pull up outside to order.
It’s been over eight years now since I’ve had a Sonic cheeseburger, an order of tater tots or a cherry limeade spiked with Gilbey’s 100 proof gin. No cute little carhops dressed in red and white smocks bringing me my order with a smile. Sometimes these correctional officers will bring in a sack full of Sonic burgers and fries and I’ll smell the aroma of real hamburger, not this imitation shit they serve us here. Sonic is one of the first places I plan to go eat upon my release from prison in late 2014. That is if they’re still around. Too old to flirt with and pick up the carhops any more. Fifteen calendar years in the joint this time has just about done me in. Saw a Sonic commercial on TV this afternoon which brought me to write this blog. Ah the memories … fast cars, cute girls, the extra long chili dogs and onion rings. If you see an old hippy with long hair and tattoos sitting at the Sonic in a GTO one day. It might be me. Come over and say hello and we’ll do a line or two off a tray, smoke a joint, and I’ll buy you a Coke. I am Tripper! Better Sonic Days!
September 9, 2008 7:13 pm 
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