Wayne White – Live in NYC

Secret Burger Joint

First, my friends and I walked into a swanky hotel in NYC. Bellhops waited with carts for busy guests to pull up to the curb. A pianist gently tickled some ivories inside the smokey hotel bar and two barbers waited patiently for businessmen in need of an old fashioned shave. I asked my friend, who is more familiar with the city than I, if this was the cheap, seedy dive she had mentioned earlier. She motioned to a dark corridor between the front desk’s sidewall and a maroon curtain. The corridor was only big enough for one person and a neon burger sign with an arrow pointing right glowed at the end of the hall. As we turned the corner we left the classy, ritzy hotel behind. Now we were in a sweaty, dump of a place with B movie posters and sharpie stains littering the walls. The cashier and all the cooks were yelling names impatiently as each order was up. It was bizarre to say the least, but the burgers and fries were incredible!