by Madeline Peters » Sat Nov 19, 2011 10:19 am
I have never been so I am curious why people go to Milltown, Indiana? It seems out of the way.
The bar at the Blue River Cafe is shoehorned in. The bar room is only about ten feet wide, maybe thirty feet long, and it sits in the middle between the front dining room and the large back room which is set up for live bands and dancing.
The bar proper is only six feet long or so, situated near the dinning room entrance and is made of lacquered wood...I think. I was sitting at that bar on Thursday. Not last Thursday, but a Thursday, and I was the only one in the bar room. I had been sitting there for at least ten minutes, and though the dining room had less than a dozen people in it, I hadn't caught a glimpse of the staff. I was in no hurry, so it didn't matter. I was looking out into the dining room when she came in.
She was a frizzy blonde, well past young but not old at all. She wore character on her face for makeup and I knew before she said anything that she would have a husky voice from a life of smoking cigarettes. I was sure she smiled a lot and she moved with vigor. She came in through the front, walked straight through the dining room and hopped up onto the bar stool on the end. She put down the paper she'd been carrying and said, “Mind if I smoke hon?” her voice barely hiding a cough. I allowed it was a bar and legal as far as I knew.
She looked over then and saw I was smiling. She smiled too and said “I know but I always ask anyway.”
I can't remember how she was dressed. I didn't stare mind you, but I can see her face quite well even now. The waitress came in almost immediately and greeted the woman with a hug. I thought, “bet the service will get stepped up a notch now.” They chatted a few minutes, the usual stuff it sounded like; but even though they were less than six feet from me I didn't hear a word of it. They weren't whispering and I'm not hard of hearing but their conversation, just a murmur, was of no consequence to me.
I wondered who she was and why she was here by herself. It's fun to try to guess the back story; some call it people watching. I fall prey to it often. When you're at the bar at the Blue River Cafe on a Thursday, well I had already read all the labels on the liquor bottles while waiting so what other option was there?
As I suspected, both our orders were soon taken and I now had a bright shiny BBC amber ale sitting in front of me. It was about half calf slobbers though, so I wouldn't be drinking it any time soon. The waitress assured me she would refill it for me without charge. Again, I smiled.
When the waitress had gone, we made appropriate small talk. I don't remember what we talked about, the usual things two strangers can easily manage when they're alone in a bar. She told me she lived in Louisville. “Really?” I started to ask if she was passing by on business. No wait, she knew the waitress so instead I said, “Are you from the area?”
“Not originally,” she said, “but I come here as often as I can. I know people here and I lived here for a while but I don't now....” Move along nothing to see here.
The lunch ribeye was the best I can remember ever having, not 3D Valley Beef, but I was told it was local just the same.
If your passing Milltown on Hwy 64 you won't see it. You must get off the road and go there on purpose. If you do, you'll find a nice little country town with a brand new bridge. The bridge spans the Blue River. I used to live on the Blue River. though not near here, and I spent much of my childhood playing in the creek as we called it. Lifting rocks to find crawdads and sometimes water snakes! Catching beautiful little sun fish painted like rainbows.
The Blue River runs right through this old mill town and you can take a canoe down it. If you come here at the right time you can float down this fork of the Blue with hardly a paddle needed. At other times you'll want your wading shoes.
If you find the time to do that, the Blue River Cafe stands proud of the west bank and across the street. It's a good place to eat if you have the time on a Thursday afternoon.
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