So you committed murder. It was understandable. He'd been on your bad side for a while. You warned him, tried to make him leave in peace and let you alone, but he wouldn't. For days and nights uncountable, he harassed, molested and stalked you incessantly. Then you snapped. You murdered him in cold blood. You disposed of the body neatly. You can breathe easier now. That mosquito is dead.
Be it man, mosquito or moth, murder works up quite an appetite, so where do you go when you need to lay low and maybe have a drink or three to soothe your frayed nerves? Generally some grungy joint on the other side of the tracks that doesn't serve doughnuts, otherwise you might get a side of "bacon" you didn't order. Diners are great for this.
Think more along the lines of "Pat & Lorraine's Coffee Shop in "Reservoir Dogs" rather than Jack Rabbit Slim's in "Pulp Fiction[u1]." Check out these five spots perfect for exterminators fresh and frenzied off a kill. Take a friend if you need to. But know the difference between a "friend" and a "true friend": A friend will help you move, but a true friend will help you move the bodies.
Los Angeles, California
Rating: 7 out of 10 Knives
Pirate's Pub in downtown L.A., a dimly lit diner during the day and den-of-all-things felonious at night, has just the right amount of scrunge and low-key vibe you need to feel comfortable after the fact. A favorite among local one-percenters during Saturday night's All-You-Can-Eat-Titties-and-Beer Buffet, Pirate's Pub earned its seven-knives with its scrupulous entry requirements.
First you have to find it. Located in the not-so-healthy-if-you-want-to-live South Figueroa corridor in the back alley just off West 132nd Street (you'll recognize Pirate's by the tarnished bronze skull-and-crossbones plaque above the stairwell leading down to the door), you must forcefully knock three times before a speakeasy-style slotted peephole opens so Zero, Pirate's intellectually challenged nephew, can see your face -- Zero might not split the atom anytime soon, but he can smoke out a cop like nobody's business. A 5-0 savant, if you will.
Upon opening the door, Attila, a well-mannered, 90-pound German Shepherd and former K-9 (Do not ask how Pirate acquired a police dog) will sniff you over. He just checks if you're a cop, so no worries. Once you pass the threshold, you're free to enjoy the house specialties: A crazy-good pastrami on rye on par with those once served at the now-closed Carnegie Deli, a BLT made with thick-cut Nueske's bacon and
apple pie so well made you might just want to make Pirate's an occasional hangout. Two unspoken rules to follow when you frequent Pirate's: Drop a few bucks in Zero's tip jar on the way out and order at least one beer, even if it's before noon.
Дмитрий Динер и холодные отрубы (Dmitry's Diner and Cold Cuts)
Brighton Beach, NYC
Rating: 8 out of 10 Knives
A storied, 47-year history, supposed but highly likely mafia ties and a boisterous, raucous clientele make Dmitry's a Brighton Beach institution. Situated just off the north boardwalk between Dmitry's Liquor Emporium and Dmitry's Cathouse and Cabaret, Dmitry's aesthetic is mash-up of Frankensteinian proportions. Upon entry you're greeted with faux wide-plank Siberian wood flooring, a 50's-era stainless-steel trimmed linoleum lunch counter, a 1967 Rock-Ola 434 Concerto jukebox, window-front Russian-red naugahyde booths (most splitting just enough to expose the pale yellow cushioning underneath) and the occasional cockroach or two. Dmitry insists they're "water bugs" that come in to escape the cold in winter and the heat in the summer,
but just ignore them. You might also see a small bear, but he's a harmless sot. A few things you need to know before you head to Dmitry's:
First, you will drink at least one shot of vodka before your food arrives and at least one shot after and, although not required but poor form if you choose not to, chase it with a pickle. It's tradition so just go with it.
Second, greet the counterman with, "dobriy den" ("good morning"/"good afternoon"/"good evening"; phonetic pronunciation, "dōbree-den") and say "spasibo" ("thank you"; phonetic pronunciation, "spicy-bah") when you leave. For all intents and purposes, when you're in Dmitry's you're in Russia, and a little effort on your part to fit in, no matter how poor or clumsy your pronunciation, goes a long way.
Third, order the borscht. Prepared by Dmitry's 87-year-old babushka at 4 a.m. each weekday, it's the best in Brighton Beach (a borscht-based, two-year-long turf war erupted in 1989 between Dmitry's Diner and Anatoly's Pierogi Pub over who could claim the title of best borscht in Brighton, and Dmitry's, a few thousand gunshots and stabbings later, came out on top).
Buck Bodean's Breakfast and Butcher Shop
Rating: 8 out of 10 Knives
With a motto like, "You kill 'em, we chill 'em," you know you're in good hands at Buck Bodean's. Buck's serves as a spot for local hunters to stop in for a hot breakfast and coffee on the way back from a hunt. Jethro and his largely inbred kitchen crew sling hash while Billy Ray handles the butcher end of the business. Man, moose or mountain lion, Billy Ray can break any animal down, and even does a little taxidermy on the side. While relishing your plate of bacon and eggs, Buck's will chill your kill in refrigerated storage lockers (available for monthly rental, no contract or ID required).
Bodean's welcomes all hunters with a toothy grin and a cup of steaming joe, so wear camo and carry your hunting rifle of choice to fit the theme and avoid any questions along the lines of, "Yoo frum 'round hur?" Located on Rural Route 114A, Buck's is a bit off the beaten path, but, as a general rule in rural Southern diners, the fewer teeth your waitress has the better your chance of going unnoticed. If you hear banjo music, that's even better. Speaking of banjo music, don't try to make friends or fake a Southern accent. You'll blow your cover and you might land an unfortunate role in a live-action "Deliverance" reboot.
Rating: 9 out of 10 Knives
With an average 37.7 murders per 100,000 people in 2016, you can consider Chicago one of the deadliest cities in the U.S. On the bright side, those 37.7 murderers per 100,000 people need a place to chill after the act, and Chi-Town Chili is a top spot. Located in the east end of the Englewood neighborhood, an area so rife with violence even the beat cops are like, "Fuck it, let's kick it an Dunkin' Doughnuts tonight," you're in common company at Chi-Town.
Their Texas-style chili is the shiznit. Made without beans and heavy on the lean ground beef and spices, Chi-Town chili fills your stomach with home-style goodness faster than your conscious fills with remorse, if you're capable of remorse, that is. A few things to know before you go: Avoid wearing red or blue clothing, especially hats and "doo-rags" or skull caps. Most of the violence in Englewood is gang-related, so you can make it in and out of Englewood with no problems if you're aware of your surroundings, don't flash any cash or bling and mind your own business.
3rd Street Diner
Rating: 11 out of 10 Knives
Even though Richmond's days in the 80's & 90's as murder capital of the world are in the rearview, it still hosts by far the classiest joint on this list of killer canteens. No one at 3rd Street Diner in downtown RVA gives a fuck who you are, what you've done or what you plan to do -- the real star here, after all, is the horrible service and general sense of doom you'll feel upon stepping foot inside this local haunt. We guarantee your server can't remember any of their children's birthdays (even though they're likely tattooed on their forearm) and it's likely by coincidence they happened to show up to work accidentally that night. Chances of them picking you out in a police lineup are 1 in 15 trillion, which says a lot considering there's only 7 billion people on Earth. Food? It's at your own risk, but you're a murderer -- what do you care?
Insist on killing your gut? It's hard to fuck up Pork barbecue, so we recommend instead putting a gun to your head with their Chopped Sirloin smothered in sautéed onions and mushrooms. Really like to risk the Thousand Island dressing is refrigerated? By all means, go for the Reuben. Want to start your community service before you get caught? Choose the BLT and ethically help them run through last month's bacon. There is a bright side; somehow this joint secured a full liquor license a few years back and they feature the full gamut of the bottom shelf. Considering how awful you've been, go ahead and treat yourself with an upgrade to Aristocrat Vodka in your Bloody Mary -- the gift God intended you for being such an awful person and the comfort you deserve after a murderous day. 3rd Street doesn't have public Wi-Fi, either, so use the service-less solitude as an opportunity to contemplate how much less miserable you'd be in jail.
This article is based on fact-supported opinion and is for entertainment purposes only. But if you do find yourself in a position that requires a little anonymity and good food, you can't go wrong with the listed establishments (we actually love all of these places). And while you're there, consider retaining a defense attorney (Ed Note - 3rd Street Diner sells prepaid legal services in their menu under "Sides"). It's never too early.