Nan's Crackerjack Café and Milkshakes (1)

Following on from Friends, Gabba and Cosy Nights.... Promise to also find a way to categorise my posts to enable easier reading for you all ;)

The next day Lily had a day off. It wasn’t always easy working freelance. She found herself spending months with so much work: modelling, acting, translation work and the job at the boutique followed by a slump where she earned no money and had to use her savings in order to cover the most important costs. Frankly, she hated it. But on the rare occasion of having a day off, Lily liked nothing more than to meet with her friends and chat about life, men and probably shoes. 

Lily had decided to meet the girls in one of her favourite little cafés: Nan’s Crackerjack Café also known also Nan’s Crack (Awful, I know, but hilarious!). It was a fantastic little place. The owner, Patty Jackson, was a brand of her own. She seemed to have got stuck in the 50’s with her permed and perfectly styled jet-black hair complete with quiff and livid-red flower; flaming red lips; thick black eyeliner under perfectly arched eyebrows; heaving bosoms caged in a dark-blue and white polka-dot dress, covered scarcely by a crisp white apron; suspender tights in skin tone with a black seam and killer red heels. At the age of fourty-nine Patty had an enviable figure and was the life and soul of every party around town. Today, Patty’s kids were hanging about too. They were two adorable little things, who both dressed in the unmistakable fifties look. Jethro, the youngest of the two, had his hair slicked back expertly with pomade into a ducktail (John Travolta eat your heart out) and wore a tiny baseball jacket and dark blue Levis doubled at the hem. His sister Judy, loved pink. Everything had to be pink. Appropriately she was sporting a pink and white polka-dot ensemble with a white belt clinched at the waist, tiny white ballerinas and her mum had gone to the trouble of sewing the words Judy on the back of the gorgeous little leather jacket she was wearing. With her golden-brown locks loosely tied back and teased into an elvis quiff at the front she looked fit to take over the world if she wanted to. 

Lily also liked to make herself look pretty when she went to Nan’s Crackerjack Café (whose name had come about from Patty’s nan. She had owned a cracker manufacturing company with her husband, Jack Jackson. No one questioned the name of the café/diner but the nickname had meanwhile reached Patty who needless to say was less impressed!) Nan’s Crackerjack Café meanwhile had an outrageous list of special, famous guests but Patty liked to keep things simple. She didn’t roll out red carpets, nor did she adhere to special wishes for coconut water, organic baby carrots or colour coordinated M&Ms. She served great food, a mix of home cooking and diner specialities and mixed a mean mojito. From hot chocolate in the winter to fresh smoothies or cola floats in the summer, Patty stuck to her menu and strongly opposed to special wishes (which normally resulted in the celeb being kicked out by her burly husband; Grant). 

Today Lily had decided to wear her pleated coral-orange knee-length skirt with a crisp white blouse and a navy cardigan. She had decided to wear quite thick tights and little booties too alongside her winter coat that kept wonderfully warm in the bitter winter they were having and reached way over her knees but unfortunately looked like a sleeping bag!Lily brushed a few flakes of snow off her eyelashes and stomped the remnants of slush off her boots as she unbuttoned her coat and tried to make out her ladies, Riza and Natty. Nan’s Crackerjack was so wonderfully whacky and simultaneously heavenly homely. The walls were a gorgeous mix of turquoise and dusky pink and speckled with memorabilia that reminded of Elvis, the Beatles, children’s tea partys, ladybirds, Dame Edna and a Las Vegas show meets Cher meets Elton John’s glasses collections. From the big-bosomed, Beryl Cook inspired salt and pepper shakers to the Pop-Art Napkins and the red and white checkered table cloths Patty had managed to combine a thousand looks from all eras and make them look holistic and cosy. 

Lily inhaled deeply as a fresh apple crumble made its way past her on the white gloved hand of a waitress dressed in a sailor outfit with petticoat and navy boat hat. “Mmmm, that smells delicious…” Lily muttered under her breath, her mouth watering. She made her way past the first tables; artists, actors, writers, families, couples and even a few businessmen. Patty really pulled in a wide crowd. Finally she found a table upstairs in the attic space of the café: her favourite part. The attic ceiling was slightly skewed and had rustical tables made of old tree stumps and car motors with glass plates on them. There were hardly any chairs that were alike: it was a mixture of sofas, armchairs, swivel chairs, highchairs and interestingly painted ikea chairs (Patty had once had a creative phase in which she had painted everything that came into her hands!). Lily found a table made of three very worn (and interestingly painted!) mannequins with a glass plate on top. It was covered with an old lace tablecloth with napkins decorated with ladybirds next to bright yellow plates and tall glasses with lime slices drawn on them. Perfect. She slid onto a highchair that resembled a hand. Just as she was tucking her coat away she saw Riza legging it up the steps, panting like an athlete. “Lily! Lily, Lily, Lily! Oh my GOD!” she squealed as Lily buried her head in her hands with a smile and slowly pushed the chair back. Riza shoved a swivel chair aside, almost knocking it over, slammed into Lily and squeezed her tight. 

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