First up we have UPT Restaurant, otherwise known as Matrixx Restaurant and Tavern.
Open 10 AM. Til.... Til when? There's not even a question mark. But I think we know the answer. Open 10 AM. Til not anymore.
What sort of restaurant was this? From the context clues, it looked like a place where a man could take his lady to share some pink zin together. A place where the stars of Poetic Justice could be waited on by a Ken doll. And that right there is a sittin' crate if I ever saw one.
Let's go around back.
That's about the prettiest view back here, because our friend the amateur muralist was also commissioned to illustrate the parking lot walls. From this mural, we can deduce the The Matrixx was a very accepting place, where a mechanic could come in his coveralls to dance with a shemale, where lesbians were free to pose like Johnny Castle and Baby, and where a Rastafarian could freak right along next to some wheelers and dealers from some earlier time period.
Next door is J's Upholstery Entp.
One of the J. Upholstery buildings also used to be a hair salon.
Outside was a white van for the business that looked like it was in running condition, but the business phone number painted on the side was disconnected. Inside: table for six, with little or no dust.
And more abandoned furniture!
Hello, awesome unclaimed and hopefully not haunted mirror?!
And now on to Miracles on Florida Street. Er, Road.
How is this lawn more freshly cut than mine?
Here's J. Upholsterly's signless signpost, and in the background is the Deco home of Kingdom Life Interdenominational Church.
Rather, was. I didn't go over, thinking they were still open. But I just called their phone number I found online and it was temporarily disconnected. So it's really four abandoned buildings in a row. I'll end this with a question: What's that red light for on the front of the building? Oh, Baton Rouge. So full of mystery.