THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, December 14, 1994 TAG: 9412140028
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Maddry
LENGTH: Medium: 90 lines
I HADN'T BEEN to the Original Tony's Hot Dogs since Tony died back in 1992. I just figured they would close the place down when he passed away.
But the other day, someone said the place was still open on Lafayette Boulevard. So I drove over for lunch. A man can go only so long without a foot-long hot dog smothered in mustard.
I expected to be abused when I got there. Tony used to run the joint - a restaurant shaped pretty much like a railway car with stools facing a formica counter - like a drill sergeant.
You were in the dog house in more ways than one the minute you walked into Tony's place.
There was no doubt who was No. 1. It was Tony, the hot dog king. He sported a sharp moustache and wore a paper hat and a scowl. Sometimes he smiled. But it was one of those smiles you could use to cut paper - sharp and thin.
Dale Carnegie never made his way into Tony's life. Tony was in the hot dog business for more than 50 years, and he lived by his motto: ``If you want it your way, go to Burger King.''
He sold great dogs. The place was spotless. I don't know anyone who hasn't eaten at Tony's at least once. But Tony was not a charm school product. He sold hot dogs and soft drinks. Period. There were stools and a counter and precious few decorations except for the sign that said: ``Rule No. 1. The boss is always right. Rule No. 2. If the boss is wrong, see No. 1.''
A first-timer who ordered something like iced tea or french fries might find Tony's dog flipper - a long fork embedded in the wooden handle of a can opener - whizzing past his head. ``This ain't no restaurant!'' Tony would shout.
``This ain't no library!'' he growled if a customer opened a magazine or newspaper. He didn't like for customers to hang around the joint. Liked to move 'em in and out.
And no one had the courage to ask for catsup more than once. ``We don't serve catsup here,'' he'd fume. ``You want catsup, go to Wendy's; this is a hot dog place.''
Most of us were astonished when he offered free dogs all day to celebrate Original Tony's Hot Dogs' 50th anniversary. He said it was in appreciation for the business customers had given him through the years. Tony probably had a heart as big as all outdoors. He was simply very clever about hiding that fact.
Christmas was pretty much like any other time at Tony's place. He didn't want the military atmosphere messed up with holiday junk. I think the only decoration anyone ever saw in his dog house was a card from the Mary Jane bread company, which supplied him with buns.
It was generally agreed that if someone had put a Christmas wreath on the door, he'd probably have phoned the police.
So you can understand the shock I got when I opened the door of the old joint last Thursday noon.
When I walked in, Tony's wife, Peggy, the new owner, was seated on a stool at the counter wearing a red pants suit.
She watched me look around, stunned to see blinking Christmas lights draped on the wall, a Christmas tree and a standing Santa on the top of each cash register.
``It's not quite the same place,'' I told Peggy. She gave little half smile and stirred her coffee.
``Yeah, there have been a few changes,'' she said. That's like saying they made a few modifications when they dynamited the old Monticello Hotel.
Peggy has hired two employees, Mary Gilmore and Debbie Sorey. Mary and Debbie smile a lot. And they say pleasant things like: ``Would you like another cup of coffee? There's no charge.'' Astonishing.
They still sell great hot dogs at Tony's. But there have been some new items added to the menu. They have a different soup each week. And you can have lemonade or iced tea if you want. And there was a cutie-pie drawing of a smiling bunny on a placard behind the counter advertising a house specialty:
French carrot cake.
Hoo-boy.
When Peggy showed me a newspaper holder for customers who want to read while dining, I had to sit down. It was just too much.
After a foot-long and a bowl of bean soup, I got up again, passing Peggy on the way out.
``The old customers say Tony would turn over in his grave,'' she said.
As to whether he actually was doing a 360 at the cemetery, she didn't know. ``All I know is that whenever the lights flicker in here, we all have the eerie feeling that he's telling us he doesn't like the change.''
But the customers do, she said. ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photos by Beth Bergman
Tony died in 1992, but the Original Tony's Hot Dogs in Norfolk still
satisfies customers, who are spared Tony's tyranny.
by CNB