Ollie's Trolley Washington DC

Ollie's Trolley place on 11th and E in Washington DC. Kind of pricey, but in line with the costs of visiting tourist locales in the DC area.

Condiments of Ollie's Trolley:



Across the way from the restaurant was a large crowd of people emptying out of the Warner Theater after seeing "Church Girl."

UPDATE: This place vaguely reminds me of "Royal Burger" (or maybe "Royal Coffee Shop") which used to exist in DC. They had a "Hamburger Royal" and a "Cheeseburger Royal" along with various other lunchplate sandwiches. It was a place with a long lunch counter like what you rarely see anymore except in old diners. Usually Americans are pretty good about getting in line to order and take care of business, but in this place there wasn't the right physical geography for that, so people would simply crowd around the counter like a mob three-or-four deep and the main guy behind the counter would pick you out with a pointed finger to ask for your order. Most of the food was eaten elsewhere as the daytime office workers would just grab their order and take off (there were only a limited number of counter seats which were always filled already).

I was in there so often that the old guy behind the counter (white-haired crewcut, rolled up white t-shirt shoulder-sleeves, stained white apron, and white 'cook' cap) would recognize me coming in the door and just give me a hand signal to let me know he knew my order, which was always the same without change (cheeseburger royal). Then I'd just hang by the door away from the crowd, and when it was ready (another hand signal) I'd snake through and get my box and hand over the exact change. It was an efficient system and usually no words exchanged except me saying "thanks" through the hum of everyone else in the crowd.

I've never come across a place like it since. The old guy who only did some of the cooking in brief spurts was like a sports referee, tracking all the various orders with just his head and whatever private system he had conjured. He passed the orders on in an abbreviated code to the other two cooks who always had their backs turned to the crowd, busy leaning over the grills frying and scraping and putting things on plates or boxes. The old guy ran the register which was the old push-button kind that rang and jangled as it put together the totals for an order. No credit cards, no checks, no receipts.