Having Fun At The Big Orange

Ever since she was an intern at the network Suzy Andrews caught the North/South Florida commuter flight after the afternoon bowl game on December 31st. During the holiday dinner Aunt Julie with Uncle Verne’s blessings spoke up to the sideline journalist who was caught up in scripts and stats.

“Rent a car and hit the road,” the relatives advised their hard-working niece being concerned about her baggage waiting by the door on Christmas Day Night.

Hearing the plea Suzy decided instead of picking up the Uber outside the North Beach Airport a stop at Hertz was the proper strategy before the matinee gridiron final exam and six-hour Interstate 95 journey.

“Drive three hours then stay the night before taking the final leg to the big game,” was there suggestion, “it will be good for you.”

Clocking two and a half hours there was a dark sky reality, and the only light came from the truck headlights that would come up, pass and continue doing the seventy-mile speed limit.

When the driving beams flashed mile marker 180 Suzy looked up to see a billboard, “Wings and Flings at The Big Orange, Exit Two Miles”.

“That is where it started on the beach around here, The Big Orange, the first-time my physical image got a paycheck,” Suzy’s memory came back and for kicks decided this was the halfway point Uncle Verne and Aunt Julie mentioned.

Unlike the Oceanview burger sandcastle where her royal beauty career started this location was modern with multiple television flat screens. Suzy found a parking spot went inside where she was greeted by paper hats and noise makers.

“It is almost midnight,” the tank top shirt hostess said.

“But it's only seven pm.” Suzy checked her watch.

“In London,” the girl half Suzy’s age clarified.

“We have been watching English Premiere football all week, festive fixtures, you know,” the other hostess brought up.

“Actually, that is another network,” Suzy smiled going to the bar where screams of Happy New Year could be heard.

Finding a seat and menu the bartender came over, “have to be honest with you, we close early tonight, 9 pm,”

“Really! Why?” Suzy inquired.

Breaking into a whisper the drink server explained, “staff goes down to the Oceanview Beachside location which corporate headquarters wants to make a historical landmark and we hang in the parking lot until midnight, then at 12 we turn the lights on, yell Happy New Year, guys are there with beer.”

“Sounds like fun,” Suzy responded, “how are the motels around here?”

“I wouldn’t know tonight we usually end up asleep on the beach.”

“Look I will take the Fling Wing platter with blue cheese dressing.”

“Blue cheese is extra is that okay,”

“Oh! That is right,” Suzy quietly stated remembering why she left The Big Orange franchise, “then do not bother.”

“Okay, a fling wing platter coming up.”

Two hours passed and Suzy made sure payment was made before the kids locked the doors and headed to a pickup truck. “To the beach,” they all chanted wearing the orange uniform shorts and tank top logos.

Just like the events she covered during the fall featuring collegiate athletes the innocent enthusiasm making sparking happiness was apparent.

Looking up to the multi-floor business friendly hotel and deciding not tonight Suzy decided to follow a story to the breaking waves to see if any personal questions might be answered.

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There it stood in the pitch black the original Big Orange built like a monument grilling burgers and fries. When Suzy stepped out and shut the rental car door the name “Suzy Andrews” could be heard, “the legendary Suzy Andrews who quit over charging for blue cheese.”

“Mr. Olen, it has been years,”

“I always knew you would make something of yourself,” Mr. Olen complemented, “sideline reporter on a major television sports channel, wow.”

“That is what looks will get you.” Suzy smiled.

“Noticed,” Mr. Olen gave her a hug, “when you walked out that door,” he pointed to the wooden entry with a padlock, “I learned something.”

“People come here to have fun not to eat.”

Bursting out laughing the former manager and owner took the long neck beer to his mouth, “that is right have fun.”

“So, what happen to the Big Orange Oceanview?”

“Corporate wanted a location on the Interstate,” He answered, “I sold and agreed to make this a tourist place for people to come and,”

“Have fun!” A Big Orange staffer gave Suzy a beer and noise maker.

“Yes, have fun,” Mr. Olen handed the waitress the key to the padlock and watched the country’s future run up and open the gate.

Everyone stood near their cars and in unison shouted “Five, Four, Three, Two, One,” and when the words Happy New Year shouted the next hour The Big Orange sign shined on the beach.

“Happy New Year, Suzy, thanks for coming back,”

“You're welcome,”

“Oh, Suzy, one more thing,” Mr. Olen voice sounded fatherly, “it’s a game, patrons at the bar cannot remember the information that you rattle off but what they like to see is a beautiful youthful image,”

“Having fun,” Suzy completed the sentence.

“Yes, having fun,” Mr. Olen confirmed, “and if you see King Orange tomorrow at the big game, tell him we miss the parade.”