Ever since coming to Tallahassee, my nightclub outings have been put to a rest. All I ever did, when I did go, was cover a story. This night was no different, but oddly enough, I felt right at home.
My reason for joining the thick crowd past 1 a.m. at The Moon Thursday morning was not to “holla” at the nearest chick that caught my eye; it was to witness the Cravings Truck. The way it moves to get as many sales as possible before the cops clear out the lot is like a blur.
Johnathon Sellers, co-founder of the mobile diner and a 2006 FAMU graduate in graphic design is like a superhero. By day, he’s a graduate school student and operator of the truck; by night and through the early mornings, he is still providing mouthwatering food to energetic club-goers who are ready to catch “the itis.”
I drove up to the shopping center located on Apalachee Parkway by Crispers Restaurant.
“We are parked in front of Payless,” Sellers said via text message.
Despite the atmosphere, smoky from car exhaust and other substances, I saw the truck from a mile away. Its fluorescent ‘Open’ sign worked as an S.O.S. for stomachs, apparently, because a small crowd was already forming outside of the truck.
“Ya’ll doing ya’ll thing out here,” one man exclaimed after taking a bite out of his chicken wing. Kianta Key, a 2010 FAMU graduate in public relations, smiled at the comment and continued to take orders from countless customers.
Key is the co-founder of the Cravings Truck. She and Sellers decided to open the business two months ago after looking at the travelers channel about Los Angeles having a boom in food trucks.
“We fell in love with the possibility of having something like that in Tallahassee,” Sellers said. “People have a really good time trying out different foods, food on the go. It’s kind of like a little adventure. There’s really nothing like that in Tallahassee.”
Sellers and Key, who are in a relationship together, created their own menu. It consists of fried chicken, hotdogs, fresh cut french-fries and a popular assortment of waffles, their most popular being the red velvet waffle.
“The whole idea of the red velvet waffle was something that Kianta’s grandmother cooked for them over the holidays,” Sellers said. “When she had some left over red velvet mix, she made red velvet pancakes.”
It appears, however, that the nightclub scene earns them the most profit.
“This is my first time eating here and it was real good,” one guy said, smacking his lips while walking toward the line again. “This is a big chicken wing. I got to get some more.”
Police noticed the crowd and decided to notify the truck to leave. What was once a busy parking lot now resembled a ghost town.
I quickly walked back to my car, stepping on old fliers and wood tips of Black and Mild cigars, I looked back and saw Sellers and Key packing up to rush to Baja’s Beachclub. I had to follow.