Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

A Romantic Dinner at the Diner

My wife, Sugar, and I entered the old-fashioned 24-hour truck stop greasy spoon diner eager for a good old-fashioned dinner.

As is the case in many of the elite restaurants, the overhead television was on a channel showing a program about life in prison.  One of the patrons inquired about changing the station, but our server objected.  She explained that this week’s prison show features the Canon City prison in Colorado, which is where her fiance is residing.  She was hoping to catch a glimpse of him.  And, let us all agree, the television debut of a loved one is exciting indeed.

Before I could empathize with this young waitress by telling her that my own former fiance/now wife appeared on the TV show Dallas in her younger years (and likely get kicked under the table by sweet Sugar), our waitress provided more unsolicited information about her personal life.  She recently had a baby.  (That was a surprise to me because i thought she still looked pregnant but, of course, I did not say that as I got couth).

Guess who is the father.  Right.  The guy in prison.  In addition, we learned that there is a three year old child who is also a product of the relationship, also conceived and born during this extended period of engagement, either prior to the fiance’s conviction and imprisonment or, perhaps, as a result of conjugal visits.  I did not ask any questions.  I was a good listener.

Sugar ruined our intriguing conversation by insisting on ordering food just as we were really getting to know the waitress.  By the way, the parents of the waitress are watching the three year old and the baby while she works.  I was ready to offer to help out too, but Sugar kept changing the subject to the menu.  How rude!  She is normally a lovely woman, classy even, a Southern belle and beauty pageant winner, but her knowledge of prisons and the challenge of repeated pregnancies with an incarcerated partner is abysmal.  She could not relate.  I, on the other hand, was willing to listen.   I was about to mention that I am a lawyer and offer to help with the appeal pro bono when Sugar lost her appetite.

The family next to us had already been served.  One of their party, a young boy about eight years of age, suddenly, without warning, yet with impressive force, threw up on their table.  Spaghetti.

Sugar is soooo ladylike that she won’t even eat her own meal just because there is vomit on the next table.  I could smell it, sure, but it is not like any of the used spaghetti actually got on Sugar’s clothing, or even mine.

It’s not like it was on our table.  That would be where I would draw the line.

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16 thoughts on “A Romantic Dinner at the Diner

  1. Perhaps it’s better you didn’t order. She may have been so engrossed in the TV you’d have gotten your neighbor’s French toast instead of the steak you wanted.

    Sometimes it’s pretty hard, being sympathetic by nature, knowing when & when not to involve yourself in other people’s troubles. I was working graveyard shift at a fast food place one night when a woman came to the counter. As I served up her coffee I couldn’t help but notice the bruises around her neck. Obviously someone had tried to choke her.

    What do you say? I could have used a lawyer’s advice right then.

  2. You, sir, write so well… For a second, I thought you did NOT care to watch an Emmy-winning documentary nor listen to what sounded like a typical Californian lifestyle of the (subsidized) rich and famous… but no, you didn’t fool me except for that one second. I’m sure you had some sympathy for “the father” who had to endure getting three square meals a day and not having to leave a tip…which I’m sure you and the missus gladly left. 🙂

  3. Forgive me. I was laughing so hard until I realized this is probably all true! You two good, caring people certainly have an interesting life. Thanks for sharing.
    Sorry about the incident at the next table:)

  4. OH. MY! I’m with Sugar on this one….

  5. Takes all sorts to make the world go round; and I love diners; but not truck stops. At our local diner, you hear all about the news of the town~!~

  6. …..take Beau with you the next time you visit the diner. He would probably enjoy so warmed up Spaghetti. I’m just sayin….

    • Beau would enjoy the experience, but classy restaurants do not allow pets, just service dogs. I could get Beau one of those service dog jackets to wear, even though it would be a lie, kinda like when I wear my Peyton Manning #18 Bronco jersey.

  7. Reblogged this on Masako and Spam Musubi and commented:
    I was laughing so hard! For a lawyer, he is hilarious and witty… Did I just write that??? 🙂

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