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tough guy poetry and manly stories of loneliness
all contents copyright Jon Rolston 2004, 2005, 2006

April 7, 2007

Yokem’s Restaurant

yokems.jpg

This little image got me thinking of Yoken’s Restaurant on Route One in Portsmouth NH.

But Yoken’s ain’t no more. That landmark neon whale sign and New England’s largest gift shop – stuffed up to the gills with fake nautical bullshit – are now only remembered on google image searches.

I can’t say I think much about the place or ever lost a minute’s time reminiscing over an enjoyable memory of the sprawling industrial complex it had become shortly before its death, but that sign was an honest to god landmark.

“Thar she blows!” was all you had to holler and that image of a black whale on the blue sign would come to everyone’s mind who’d heard you. If you believed the hallway gossip in Portsmouth High, Kate Hubbard yelled it the first time she jerked Butch Dxxxxxx* off in his dad’s Ford. Regardless, it came as no surprise when they finally decided to knock it down and put a grocery store in its place. Who cared?

They were famous for churning out 55 gallon drums of seafood chowder that consisted of anything dragged in on a gill net or hauled up in a lobster pot. My good friend found a tampon applicator in his while enjoying the soup and sandwich special after church one Sunday.

That was Yokem’s. Yokem’s… that’s how old people called it, and that’s pretty much who went there. Leastwise towards the end. Old folks like my Grandmother’s Women’s Alliance or my Dad’s Rotary Club would rent out the conference center weekday afternoons and fine each other for not wearing their name badges, even though they grew up together in the same town for the last sixty years.

That’s how those organizations stay together, you hate the jerk and you can’t wait to get him to cough up three bucks into the “Eyeglasses For Indians” fund because he didn’t salute the flag when he walked in the room. I’ve been to Rotary. I seen how it works. When someone hangs around for too long they get on your nerves.

Best thing to do is take a picture and sell out.

*name has been changed per his request. Here is the email:
“Jon,
I appreciate a funny story along with the rest. I am not sure what I did to you but it is unfortunate that people I know and parents of my elementary school age boys can type my name into google and read this story. Any way keep up the good work I appreciate you smearing my name for no reason. Let me know when you are in town maybe I can buy you a beer.

Butch Dxxxxx”

To Butch and Kate and all the parents out there, please accept my apology. I was reporting gossip, not fact.

yokens.jpg thanks to google image search and whoever took this

4 Comments

  1. If I had known that Kate yelled ‘Thar She Blows!’ when she jerked off guys or, for that matter, that she jerked off guys at all, I would have approached my senior prom date a little differently. Thanks for letting me know about 16 years too late, jerk.

    Comment by Lyle_s — April 7, 2007 @ 5:49 pm

  2. The internet is a powerful thing…

    photo by J. Landry

    Comment by jon — April 8, 2007 @ 12:07 am

  3. It’s nice that you’re memorializing Portsmouth from so far away.

    Comment by J Landry — April 8, 2007 @ 3:42 am

  4. Actually, I was hiding outside the car that night (dressed in my ninja outfit) and I think she said “You shot my nose!” Butch was known for his mighty money shots. I was masturbating in the nearby bushes and then quietly let the air out of their tires as part of my ninja initiation. Then I ran through the cemetery blindfolded and skinned my knee on those iron metal beams that separate family plots. I failed that initiation and the rest is history…

    Comment by oggy — April 9, 2007 @ 10:33 pm

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