The pig, decked out in a black top hat and bow tie, calls out to you as you glide down University, beckoning you to this chocolate-pudding-colored building, one of the finer regional examples of neo-rib-shack architecture. The neon sign says "Dine in Your Car," but there are no carhops here anymore. After getting your food at the drive-thru window, you can pull around and plant yourself in the parking lot. It's cheap and greasy, like the naked American Dream itself. But there are times when nothing can make the world right in quite the same way a cheeseburger with an onion ring on top and a just-thick-enough chocolate shake can. Bring small bills; they don't take checks. But every order comes with a soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie. If this ain't America, what is?


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