Edgar had been going to the Pine Valley Mountain Lodge for the greater part of 1942 and always on Wednesday nights.
The gentleman's club of it's day, the risque rustic lodge was buried deep within the woods of a secluded lake town in Northern New Jersey. Its working gals were mostly fresh out of high school, overly friendly and extremely easy on the eyes.
It's wasn't the corned beef or the cozy fire that kept the handsome stranger so loyal to the place but the company of its scantily-clad waitresses - namely one Edna Barry. With the jasmine perfume wafting from her cleavage, she'd always serve her coffee with a smile.
At first, Edgar took her rejections in stride and figured if he was persistent enough, they could at least enjoy the latest Cagney picture at the drive-in. Eventually, Edgar didn't take 'no' kindly and Edna had to shuffle her shift before quitting the lodge altogether.
After loose lips at the lodge told the suiter where he could find his sweetheart, Edgar once again laid on the charm. And this time, he was super persistent. The pair eventually made it to the drive-in for the latest Cagney picture.
He in the front seat of his Plymouth. She in its trunk.