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Editor's Note:
After writing the last six years' worth of the Best of Knoxville in the exact same manner, this year we decided to do it a little differently. Or, rather, much differently—in fact, we turned the whole thing into a hard-boiled detective story. We're hoping this'll be more entertaining than the usual list of blurbs, while still cluing you in as to why these winners are deserving of their awards. (If you'd like to see the complete list of winners by category, click the "Full List" button below.) Also, our lawyers would like us to apologize beforehand to all those involved.

 

Special Online-Only Bonus!

When we asked John Mayer to illustrate our Best of Knoxville detective novel, he didn't just throw together some drawings. No, he wrote his own entire story starring Knoxville Confidential detective Solomon Panzer. So please join us now as we enter the alternate-universe version of The Lost Knoxville Caper.

 

The 7th Annual
The Lost Knoxville Caper

Chapter Four

Best Radio DJ: Phil Williams
Best Bagel Shop: New York Bagel Cafe and Deli

I jumped into my trusty Yugo and, after a few minutes, started after them. Phil Williams introduced "Aqualung" on WIMZ for the morning audience while I waited for the car to warm up. I sang along, badly.

I didn't catch up to the tough-looking guys until they were on Kingston Pike. I wanted to stop at New York Bagel, one of the most popular places in town to sit down, eat a toasted onion bagel with cream cheese, and read the paper. It was a new morning, and my stomach growled like my old mother-in-law for a decent breakfast. But I had a job to do, and it didn't involve fresh-baked bagels or any other tasty pastries.

At this point I noticed that I was surrounded by rush-hour traffic. SUVs loomed on all sides, keeping my little Yugo at a standstill. It was like the opening scene of 8 1/2, where that guy's car is stuck in a jam and catches on fire. If I didn't find out what happened to Dickey, we'd all be that guy pretty soon.

Best Used Book Store: McKay's Used Books and CDs

I saw the goons a few car lengths ahead. They got out of their car and dashed through the traffic jam. I veered the Yugo into the parking lot of McKay's Used Books and CDs. They have stacks and stacks of books in there, even cheap detective novels. Those always give me a kick; you wouldn't believe what some people think this business is like.

A tall college kid with bushy hair and a Nabokov T-shirt was opening the door.

"Have you seen a couple of tough-looking thugs anywhere?" I asked him.

Best Dive: Toddy's Backdoor Tavern
Best Brew Pub: Blackhorse Pub and Brewery
Best Local TV Sports Anchor: Jim Wogan

He pointed down the road, toward Toddy's. It's a cheap little dive, but they have a pretty good selection of bottled beers and that atmosphere where a guy like me can get away from himself. It's always packed on Friday and Saturday nights. And Deanna Carter used to tend bar there. But Toddy's doesn't serve strawberry wine; you have to buy that at the adjoining liquor store and brown bag it.

As I entered the main door—past the outside picnic tables and horseshoe pits—I saw the goons headed down the outside stairs on the other side. I downed a quick High Life. That's what I wanted. If I'd been in the mood for a sophisticated, well-crafted and locally-brewed beer, I would have gone up the street to the Blackhorse Pub and Brewery in Western Plaza. But I didn't have time for that.

I dropped a handful of change on the bar, and looked up at the TV, which was playing the morning edition of Sports Center. The Braves lost the night before. That meant my bookie was probably trying to find me. I was surprised he wasn't in Toddy's already. I'd have to check Jim Wogan's sports report on WATE at 6 p.m. to get the scoop on what went down. That's the best source for sports in town.

I went down the outside stairs, fingering the pistol in my belt. This was about to get bad.

Best Deli: Nixon's Deli
Best Barbecue: Buddy's Bar-B-Q
Best Delivered Pizza: Papa John's

I chased them down Kingston Pike, all the way to Bearden. We passed Nixon's Deli, where the clerks in those nice blue aprons serve up fresh hot sandwiches, and Buddy's Bar-B-Q, where the smell of slow-cooking barbecue wafted out toward the road. Cars were still at a standstill. I saw a delivery guy for Papa John's, the most popular pizza delivery outfit in town, follow our lead and leave his beat-up Ford Escort in the road.

I felt like the fat kid in gym class. I just hoped I wasn't going to get beat up in the locker room after all of this. We'd run for miles, and I was no closer to them than I was when we started this whole thing hours before.

Best Salads: O'Charley's
Best Buffet: Mandarin House

Then I saw them sitting on the patio at O'Charley's, enjoying a couple of delightful soup and salad combos. They seemed to be arguing. I sidled along the building to get closer, listening around the corner.

"Ah, he's gone. We ain't gonna see that dick around here no more today," said the first one, the one with the scar down his face.

"I don't know," replied the other one. "He's a slippery little guy, and tough, too. I heard about him bustin' up that protection racket that Bugsy was runnin' on the Mandarin House. That place always wins the best buffet award in Metro Pulse's annual reader's poll and is always packed on the weekends, with a full spread of Chinese dishes and those wonderful little Chinese donuts—man, I love those little powdery things. But they was losing money like it was on a fast boat to China, owin' to they paid it all to Bugsy. But that dick really put a stop to that. He sent three of Bugsy's guys to the hospital, just with a whiffle ball bat."

I still don't play whiffle ball. I didn't like what I had to do to those guys. But I didn't like the racket they were running on the best Chinese buffet in town. And I didn't like the racket these guys were trying to pull, either. It was time to get busy.

Best Record Store: Disc Exchange
Best Local Rock Band: Gran Torino
Best Desserts/Best Diner/Best Hamburger: Litton's

When I wheeled around the corner, ready to go a round with the two thugs, all I got was a face full of salad and soup. It burned a lot. I mean a lot. But I didn't have time to worry about that. I took off after the goons, who crossed the standstill traffic on Kingston Pike and were headed toward the Disc Exchange. If they got in there, I might never be able to pull myself away from the huge selection of new and used CDs, video games, and T-shirts that have been available at the Disc Exchange for more than a decade.

I caught up to them in the parking lot. Just as I grabbed them, the one with the scar turned to me and said, "Hey, I think they've got tickets on sale here for Gran Torino's show at the Bijou Theater on Friday, April 28."

Hmm ... Gran Torino, I thought. They serve up the tastiest, funkiest jazz-R&B-rock in Knoxville. Always a big draw. I might have to get a couple of tickets. Maybe invite Rowena along ...

That second of funk-rock reverie was just enough for them. A fist that felt like it was loaded with lead hit me right on the chin. As I slipped out of consciousness, all I could think of was the dreamy hamburgers at Litton's way over in Fountain City. That seemed like a world away...

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April 27, 2000 * Vol. 10, No. 17
© 2000 Metro Pulse