stop in for lunch and enjoy the microwaved food, hot spots but no where near even cooking. Service is lousy. the place really needs to be cleaned. Wonder when the last time the health inspector was in?
Sarah, I had my wedding after-party here because I, too, love the place. An actual clown car—a car full of actual clowns who were dropped off at the bar—was there. Our photos are nuts.
Dear hipsters. Stay the fuck out of SODO. Take your blue collar hating asses back to Belltown and Capitol Hill. We aren't your fetish. Have a nice fucking day. Or not. I don't fucking care.
I think I still have some old Andy's coasters around and fondly remember chowing down on burgers with my father and ex-customs broker grandfather. Waving kitties aren't going to replace those memories.
I used to go there for lunch when I worked at the south service center both in the Andy's years, and the Orient Express years. It wasn't bad. I didn't know some of those cars were from the old City Light railway.
Oh, jayzez, I worked as a hostess at Andy's Diner in the early 90s, when Andy Yurkanin was still running the place and his son (Travis? I can't recall) was starting to take over. All I remember is that they both wore the same kind of Sansabelt dress slacks. The place was grimy and reeked of cigarette smoke (as did I after every shift). The carpets looked as if they'd never been cleaned. I remember people complaining that they had to walk through a smoking car to get to the non-smoking car, and I couldn't convince the "management" to switch things around.
Oh, and the manager told me they added "the rotten ketchup bottles" to their Prime Steak Sauce™. Yum! There were some seriously hard-drinking regulars there every bloomin' night. I remember one guy would come over from the post office on his meal break and have several drinkies to get him through the night.
There were some real characters working there, too, including a Flo-from-Mel's-Diner-esque waitress named Flossie and a cocktail waitress named Elaine whose idea of getting "dressed up" was crotchless panties and dark brown lip liner.
Shit, now I've been catapulted straight into Traumatic Job-Related Memory Mode™. *sad trombone*
I'm perplexed. You left a crucial component out of this article entirely, that which is possibly the craziest thing of all things that happen inside of this venue... the all-night parties. Train Car House Party is a LIFESTYLE and as recently as this Saturday 11/8 we raged. Make this addition and complete this story!
Andy's was the first restaurant I ever entered; I was six days old, in my father's arms and it was late November 1954 [yes, I'm an old What's the alternative?]. We ate there once a week until my dad died in 1977. When I "went off" to college [I moved into the dorm @ Terry Hall]] Andy Nagy sent me along with a huuuge container of their delicious blue cheese dressing. Sometimes I can still smell those steaks, the hash browns and the egg toast. I miss that place almost as much as I miss my dad.
How on earth you had multiple good dishes from this place when I've had zero edible ones is beyond me.
Oh, and the manager told me they added "the rotten ketchup bottles" to their Prime Steak Sauce™. Yum! There were some seriously hard-drinking regulars there every bloomin' night. I remember one guy would come over from the post office on his meal break and have several drinkies to get him through the night.
There were some real characters working there, too, including a Flo-from-Mel's-Diner-esque waitress named Flossie and a cocktail waitress named Elaine whose idea of getting "dressed up" was crotchless panties and dark brown lip liner.
Shit, now I've been catapulted straight into Traumatic Job-Related Memory Mode™. *sad trombone*