I usually eat breakfast at home, but occasionally I'll hit a diner for a late night meal and order breakfast. It's unusual that I go out for an actual mid-week breakfast, but I wasn't in the mood for an English Muffin with cream cheese yesterday morning. So I decided to hit the local diner.
I had read posts on Facebook about the chill in the air, so I prepared. I put on a pair of sweats and a long sleeve shirt. I headed out into the brisk sunny outdoors. The air was cool, but hardly cold and the sun was brighter than my eyes could handle. Since I live so much of my life like a slave of Plato's Cave (with a laptop), the sun's affect was overwhelming. Combined with the nice chill, I immediately felt a little clarity. I walked up the hill, smiled at a neighbor and noticed the library. I've been meaning to get a new card. I have Blood Horse and Hitch-22 to read and bookstores have gone the way of the dinosaurs and I refuse to pay for shipping. Maybe tomorrow with some pancakes?
There is always that moment, lasting maybe five seconds, where you feel a little awkward walking into a restaurant and asking for a table for one, but in the immortal words of Pee Wee Herman "I'm a loner Dottie," The restaurant was packed with elderly people who at first glance looked as if they were enjoying their last meals. Coughs and sneezing were echoing from the walls and I felt as if a white mask like they wear in the subways in Japan might be necessary. I was seated in the back, away from the imminent death that surrounded me. I knew what I wanted, but perused the menu. Coffee was put down in front of me, I smiled and explained I was ready. "The #2, over easy, bacon, whole wheat toast with butter and a side of corned beef hash. Oh, and a grapefruit juice." The waiter left and I immediately, looked down at my phone to play a game.
My food came quickly. Diners always seem to have that telepathic cook who knows what you want when you wake and just waits for you to arrive. Some pepper, a dollop of ketchup for the potatoes and I was set.. I took one egg and placed it atop everything and sliced it. The yolk poured like lava, slinking it's way through the cracks in the home fries and moistened the crispy bacon. I then sliced it into more manageable bites and dug in. A little hash, the salty goodness with the luxuriousness of the yolk, combined with the peppery starch of the potatoes and the sweet of the bacon. The toast used almost as a scoop, made sure I didn't miss any of the tastes. The coffee was hot, not necessarily good, but hot. The juice, served as a palate cleanser, but I was only half way through.
I took a breath and then proceeded to do my favorite thing while eating alone. People watching. I noticed three people laughing at the "bar" area. One man, in his 70's sitting between two women, one about his age, one maybe ten years younger. I couldn't help but think of the mans playboy lifestyle in his younger years. He seemed to be holding court, as even the waiter seemed transfixed on his every word. I then looked ahead and saw a bitter man, explaining to what appeared to be another man (the hat threw me off) how he was giving his daughter ten thousand dollars and telling her goodbye. He said, he was broke and he had to borrow the money, but it was the last time. I thought about all the possibilities. There was bitterness in his voice, but one look on his face and you saw sorrow. A broken man, who despite his attempts, had a daughter who failed him, but he was the one who felt defeat. The server refilled my cup and broke my attention.
I glanced down the aisle to catch an older disheveled woman getting up. The wrong time to look, because I caught a full glimpse of her ass crack, barely covered by some ill-fitting sweats. She tugged once, they rose, then fell again. She apparently was in search of her husband who was wandering aimlessly around the place, stopping every few seconds to blow his nose into a handkerchief. They sat and my attention was drawn to a man in his 50's taking his daughter out. I always smile when I see a parent take their child out alone. It's a special time. I remember going places with one of my parents, especially when my brother was born. I could be eating ice cream or a plate of some hummus and pita, but I felt like a king those days. I'm sure she was his queen that morning.
I placed some hash on the plate with the remaining fries and bacon and placed the second egg on top. Another cup of coffee and I dug in. Taking a break when I noticed the stunning hostess walking to seat another elderly couple. She had a full length sweater that would sway and reveal her incredible body. Long legs, tight black pants and top, with knee high boots with high, very high heels. She moved quickly and she knew young and old was noticing. She smiled and made eye contact with everyone. I then got distracted by what sounded like a mother complaining about everything under the sun. She received a call and then repeated verbatim to her friend, exactly what she had just uttered on the phone. I rolled my eyes in my mind but then she said something that knocked the wind out of my sarcastic sails. "I only made five thousand dollars last year and he doesn't help out enough. I can't work, because I have to be with my son. He has autism and he needs constant supervision. That was his therapist on the phone and while she's young, she's great and he has really progressed and I don't want him to lose her. The school isn't helping enough get him services." My heart melted, because I know too many people who have had to deal with this type of thing and their husbands or boyfriends leave, because they aren't strong enough to handle it. I felt so guilty for my snap judgement, that I wanted to offer to help. If it wasn't such a delicate situation, I would have. That woman stayed with me for the rest of the day. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet her son. The waiter asked if I'd needed anything, filled my cup and I did the universal symbol for drawing on your hand.
I took my last bite, and then neatly stacked my dishes. Guzzled the last of my coffee down and then drank the rest of my ice water. A woman walked in and spoke briefly to the waiter. She then walked towards my table. She stood, uncomfortably, about six feet from my table, glancing awkwardly at the table, but never making eye contact. She was in her 60's, slightly disheveled, but wearing clothes that upon inspection, you knew were at the height of fashion, when she was in her prime. She glanced up and I nodded to my check. I threw down my tip and tucked it under the coffee cup. I smiled an got up. I walked by the concerned mother and smiled, then by the outgoing father and gave him a nod. I walked to the counter and paid my bill, smiled at the hostess and wished her a good day. As I walked out, three more people walked in. An elderly couple and a man, who had obviously left his wife to take care of getting their child out of the car. I held the door, smiled, then walked out, wondering what their stories might be. I took the longer way home, passing no one as I reached my front door. I thought about not entering . I thought about the air, the cool wind. I thought about how nobody in that diner Thursday morning knew anything about each other, but we all had one common, one strong bond. I could guarantee, none of our lives had turned out the way we had planned. None of our adult lives were ever as good as that little girls, who sat across from her father and for 40, maybe 50 minutes, was a queen.
I had read posts on Facebook about the chill in the air, so I prepared. I put on a pair of sweats and a long sleeve shirt. I headed out into the brisk sunny outdoors. The air was cool, but hardly cold and the sun was brighter than my eyes could handle. Since I live so much of my life like a slave of Plato's Cave (with a laptop), the sun's affect was overwhelming. Combined with the nice chill, I immediately felt a little clarity. I walked up the hill, smiled at a neighbor and noticed the library. I've been meaning to get a new card. I have Blood Horse and Hitch-22 to read and bookstores have gone the way of the dinosaurs and I refuse to pay for shipping. Maybe tomorrow with some pancakes?
There is always that moment, lasting maybe five seconds, where you feel a little awkward walking into a restaurant and asking for a table for one, but in the immortal words of Pee Wee Herman "I'm a loner Dottie," The restaurant was packed with elderly people who at first glance looked as if they were enjoying their last meals. Coughs and sneezing were echoing from the walls and I felt as if a white mask like they wear in the subways in Japan might be necessary. I was seated in the back, away from the imminent death that surrounded me. I knew what I wanted, but perused the menu. Coffee was put down in front of me, I smiled and explained I was ready. "The #2, over easy, bacon, whole wheat toast with butter and a side of corned beef hash. Oh, and a grapefruit juice." The waiter left and I immediately, looked down at my phone to play a game.
My food came quickly. Diners always seem to have that telepathic cook who knows what you want when you wake and just waits for you to arrive. Some pepper, a dollop of ketchup for the potatoes and I was set.. I took one egg and placed it atop everything and sliced it. The yolk poured like lava, slinking it's way through the cracks in the home fries and moistened the crispy bacon. I then sliced it into more manageable bites and dug in. A little hash, the salty goodness with the luxuriousness of the yolk, combined with the peppery starch of the potatoes and the sweet of the bacon. The toast used almost as a scoop, made sure I didn't miss any of the tastes. The coffee was hot, not necessarily good, but hot. The juice, served as a palate cleanser, but I was only half way through.
I took a breath and then proceeded to do my favorite thing while eating alone. People watching. I noticed three people laughing at the "bar" area. One man, in his 70's sitting between two women, one about his age, one maybe ten years younger. I couldn't help but think of the mans playboy lifestyle in his younger years. He seemed to be holding court, as even the waiter seemed transfixed on his every word. I then looked ahead and saw a bitter man, explaining to what appeared to be another man (the hat threw me off) how he was giving his daughter ten thousand dollars and telling her goodbye. He said, he was broke and he had to borrow the money, but it was the last time. I thought about all the possibilities. There was bitterness in his voice, but one look on his face and you saw sorrow. A broken man, who despite his attempts, had a daughter who failed him, but he was the one who felt defeat. The server refilled my cup and broke my attention.
I glanced down the aisle to catch an older disheveled woman getting up. The wrong time to look, because I caught a full glimpse of her ass crack, barely covered by some ill-fitting sweats. She tugged once, they rose, then fell again. She apparently was in search of her husband who was wandering aimlessly around the place, stopping every few seconds to blow his nose into a handkerchief. They sat and my attention was drawn to a man in his 50's taking his daughter out. I always smile when I see a parent take their child out alone. It's a special time. I remember going places with one of my parents, especially when my brother was born. I could be eating ice cream or a plate of some hummus and pita, but I felt like a king those days. I'm sure she was his queen that morning.
I placed some hash on the plate with the remaining fries and bacon and placed the second egg on top. Another cup of coffee and I dug in. Taking a break when I noticed the stunning hostess walking to seat another elderly couple. She had a full length sweater that would sway and reveal her incredible body. Long legs, tight black pants and top, with knee high boots with high, very high heels. She moved quickly and she knew young and old was noticing. She smiled and made eye contact with everyone. I then got distracted by what sounded like a mother complaining about everything under the sun. She received a call and then repeated verbatim to her friend, exactly what she had just uttered on the phone. I rolled my eyes in my mind but then she said something that knocked the wind out of my sarcastic sails. "I only made five thousand dollars last year and he doesn't help out enough. I can't work, because I have to be with my son. He has autism and he needs constant supervision. That was his therapist on the phone and while she's young, she's great and he has really progressed and I don't want him to lose her. The school isn't helping enough get him services." My heart melted, because I know too many people who have had to deal with this type of thing and their husbands or boyfriends leave, because they aren't strong enough to handle it. I felt so guilty for my snap judgement, that I wanted to offer to help. If it wasn't such a delicate situation, I would have. That woman stayed with me for the rest of the day. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet her son. The waiter asked if I'd needed anything, filled my cup and I did the universal symbol for drawing on your hand.
I took my last bite, and then neatly stacked my dishes. Guzzled the last of my coffee down and then drank the rest of my ice water. A woman walked in and spoke briefly to the waiter. She then walked towards my table. She stood, uncomfortably, about six feet from my table, glancing awkwardly at the table, but never making eye contact. She was in her 60's, slightly disheveled, but wearing clothes that upon inspection, you knew were at the height of fashion, when she was in her prime. She glanced up and I nodded to my check. I threw down my tip and tucked it under the coffee cup. I smiled an got up. I walked by the concerned mother and smiled, then by the outgoing father and gave him a nod. I walked to the counter and paid my bill, smiled at the hostess and wished her a good day. As I walked out, three more people walked in. An elderly couple and a man, who had obviously left his wife to take care of getting their child out of the car. I held the door, smiled, then walked out, wondering what their stories might be. I took the longer way home, passing no one as I reached my front door. I thought about not entering . I thought about the air, the cool wind. I thought about how nobody in that diner Thursday morning knew anything about each other, but we all had one common, one strong bond. I could guarantee, none of our lives had turned out the way we had planned. None of our adult lives were ever as good as that little girls, who sat across from her father and for 40, maybe 50 minutes, was a queen.
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