I have lots of great childhood memories in this little joint, however only ONE of these memories can save me from my misery in pining after a burrito at this very moment.
I believe a loss of appetite is called for...
So, this one day, my dad, Steve (my cousin), and I are eating breakfast at the Basket. My Grandpa is at another table with all of his buddies drinking their morning coffee and proceeding in their ritual of whatever it is that Grandpa's talk about. This crusty guy comes in and says hi to all the guys at my Grandpa's table and starts looking around for a place to sit. My dad offers him a seat with us since he's a friend of Gramps and it's fairly common to be spread out between tables amongst friends here. We order our food and make small talk with the guy...well, my dad does, anyway. I was probably making fun of Stevie ( he didn't call me a terrorist from hell for nothing.) We receive our food and all is silent while we inhale the perfection that is breakfast at the basket.
Then, it happens.....
Out of nowhere, this guy full on throws up on his plate in a fit of heaves and hurls. My dad yells, "Look out the window, Mandy! Steve! Don't LOOK!" "Man, are you okay????" *Grumbles something* "Um, sir, can I help you????"
Guy says, "Nah, I'm fine..." AND CONTINUES TO EAT!! He just picked around his puke.
To this day, I don't know why we sat there and just endured this.... out of respect for my Grandpa and his friends, we just kinda took it. The guy left and my Grandpa comes over to join us....
Dad: "Merv, your friend just puked all over us!"
Grandpa: "My friend? I've never seen that guy in my whole life."
Yeah..... well, I'm good. See ya.