If you happen to pass by this ramshackle joint without knowing what it is, you might be afraid to go in. It looks like someone upended a junk shop in the corner of a parking lot. But go in. I urge you. In his younger years, Buddy Owen (nicknamed B.O.) ran a little fried fish shack in a lot on Duval Street. It was the ideal life: He'd cook the perfect grouper for folks at mealtimes, but when he wasn't working, he'd be out fishing all day and carousing all night. Life changes, though, and Buddy got married, had a kid, and when his Duval Street lot was developed, he set up shop on this corner, cobbling together a shelter out of old lobster pots, mannequin legs, concrete, license plates, and an entire vintage pickup truck. He's been here for two decades now, raising a family through sales of the perfect fish sandwich, greasy burger, endless refills of key limeaid, fried grouper and cracked conch, non-seafood "Landwiches," hand-cut fries, and Friday music nights that have attracted locals for years. The free-spirited kitchen staff may sit on the serving counter while they casually take your order, the food may take its sweet time, and if you're very lucky indeed, Buddy himself, now a pillar of the Conch community, may make an appearance. You'll know him because he looks like Hemingway himself. Usually, though, he lets the party he started rock on without him.
 
And if you look on the rafters above the western door, you'll spot a European license plate from the 1980s: number 10M-5018. That hung on the desk of a certain young travel writer as he went through high school. That's my license plate, and when Buddy was building his new home, I donated it to his iconic clutter. Now it presides over what I have always considered to be the best conch fritters in Key West and one of the most authentic local customs it still has to offer.