The devil liked it at the P&H Cafe. It had just the right mix of desperation, desire and crushing defeat that made his job so much easier.
It didn’t hurt that the stuffed burgers were hedonistically sinful, either
He looked around the smokey room, running his tongue over his teeth. It was early yet, so the pickings were still rather slim.
A group of comics were off in a corner, bumming cigarettes from each other and arguing over who’s turn it was to refill the pitcher. Dangle fame in front of them, and they’d turn on each other in a second.
In the booth behind them, a young filmmaker poked a timidly at his laptop, trying to catch the same bolt of lightning that Craig Brewer bottled here. And for a price, the devil could give it to him.
As the night wore on, more would flow in. More souls with more temptations.
The Poor and the Hungry, indeed.
What an absolutely perfect name for these people and this place.
If the devil ever dared to imagine his version of heaven, it would probably be a lot like this.
He ordered one of those stuffed burgers and settled in.
The P&H has been the womb of and dashing rocks for many great artistic dreams in Memphis. The cheap beer, greasy food, and morally lax atmosphere has drawn in local creatives for years, and shows no sign of ceasing.