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April 16, 2008

Wednesday

Last chance diner.

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LAST CHANCE DINER

Two eggs, over easy.
Two pieces of toast, wheat, real butter, grape jam.
Bacon, crisp, not soggy and definitely not burnt.
One small glass of orange juice, fresh squeezed.
And one cup of steaming black coffee.

The slim bleach blond waitresses with the dark pads under her eyes leans forward.
The top button of her uniform parts, reveling the lace of a low white bra and a V fading into darkness.
The next button threatens to fly apart with one more breath.

My eyes linger.

Writing my order on her pad she looks smiling into my face.

Anything else, honey?

Posted by: JerryD at April 16, 2008 11:27 AM · Permalink

She finally agreed to meet me at the diner where we always ate Saturday breakfasts. It was the only way I would agree to give her what she wanted.

Since she ran off to find herself two years ago, she had called only twice, always asking for money, which I reluctantly sent. But not this time. No cash unless she agreed to meet me face to face.

I waited more than an hour and it was clear that she wasn't coming. I paid for the coffee and walked slowly to the car.

Daddy's little girl had made up her mind.

Posted by: Owl Creek Observer at April 16, 2008 12:17 PM · Permalink

LUNCH HOUR

Manny's wasn't a cozy lunchtime eatery. Jittery junkies sipped coffee at the counter. Hookers lured tricks into the john. Sadsack gamblers and hired guns lined up at the pay phone. Here and there a cockroach scuttled.

Fresh off the farm and straight off the bus, Willy strolled into Manny's wide-eyed with fascination.

Lola checked her make-up in the napkin dispenser, fluffed her hair and slinked over to him.

Fast Mickey invited him to a friendly game of cards.

"Y'all sure are nice," Willy said.

Hours later he stumbled out of Manny's with an empty wallet, a shiner and the clap.

Posted by: Jarrett at April 16, 2008 2:57 PM · Permalink