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Because of school, I now am able to come into the diner only on weekends. I finished the first module on Thursday night. Despite my being so nervous that I was about to throw up, I managed the lab exam quite well. In fact, I got an 'A' for the course. For the bulk of my time in the public schools, my more usual marks were in the 'D' range, so, let's just say that I feel good.
Closure at the age of 46.
It's quiet here on my end of the counter. Close to me, we have an elderly man who resembles that cobwebby old character Arte Johnson played on 'Laugh-In', the one who used to talk suggestively to Ruth Buzzi on the park bench. As we speak, he's currently peering into the sugar dispenser as if it were a crystal ball. Next to him's some California beach blonde, yammering on a cell phone, dropping the word 'like' in between every third word in her speech, and eating a garden salad covered with sunflower seeds and no dressing. In my mind, I'm hearing one of our service writers at work, a bright countenanced, unapologetically crude Falstaff of a man. "Five minutes, George. I'll have her yammering." And then, his customary burst of forced laughter. Well, what would you do with such a person, anyway? Discuss theology? Ictheology?
You're bone tired, George. Stop the sexism.
"You're on your way," Dawn Rice says, digging into a plate of fish and chips. Bored, she's come down here to hang out with me on this late night. How much of a life do you have if you come in and hang out at your place of employment? "I'm so happy for you!"
"I'm happy, too. It's like, I'm getting a Mulligan."
"Who?"
A Mulligan. In golf, that's a do-over. You ask your partners by the tee if you can do it over if you completely mess up the first stroke, or wherever you are on the way to the hole. It's like, I get to live being 19 all over again."
"I never looked at it that way, but, yeah. That's great, isn't it?"
"It's like, for the first time in so long, I'm alive. My life has meaning. I have something to look forward to, I'm not dead waiting to be buried." I'm enjoying my usual bowl of porridge. Hot wheat cereal. I like it with margarine and a couple of Sweet 'n Lows. "It's also so different as well. My nineteen was a year of depression and fear and loneliness. It's not like that now. I'm actually enjoying things!"
"Why didn't you do this earlier?"
I look at Dawn, and am momentarily at a loss for an answer. "I really don't know."
"Yes, you do, you're just too chicken to answer."
"I am?"
"Yes."
I search my mind. A few stools down, our demonstrative young idiot with the flowing blonde locks and slightly glazed Alicia Silverstone eyes squeals and moans at the information being relayed to her on the phone, no doubt by an equally glazed, hormonal idiot on the other end. "I don't know. I'm thinking maybe, on some level, I was waiting for someone to do it for me?"
"Maybe not someone doing it. You were waiting for someone to tell you that it was okay, that it was time, but you felt no one was interested enough."
I sigh. "Maybe. Or, maybe I was just waiting to die."
"Nah. You don't wanna die. You wanna see how the movie turns out, like the rest of us."
"Right. And, I want my movie to really begin."
"Yep."
"So, it's begun."
Cookie comes over. Rochelle's not working tonight. She took a much needed night off, and as we speak, I imagine she's completely zonked out on her couch, sawing logs. Even the sound of Gregory watching the Sixers full blast would have no effect. "More coffee, boyo?"
"Why do you call me boyo?"
"Because it annoys you, you silly gitt."
I just laugh. Cookie's comic delivery's a work of art. The words don't really look funny on paper or a monitor, but her way of saying them just flattens me out. "Yes, dear. More coffee."
"So, when do I get my massage?"
"As soon as you stop calling me boyo."
"Ah." She pours into my cup from the carafe. "Nah. I like calling you boyo. You're gonna have to come up with a different quid pro quo, then."
"Why don't you give her a massage," Dawn says. "You've given everyone else one around here."
"I never said I wouldn't."
"I'm only playin' with ya. I don't need a massage." She leans in, and whispers to me, "I really need something else...but that I'm not askin' ya."
I almost spill my coffee on the counter. Through my laughter, I'm telling her, "get away from me!" Dawn's guffawing. Cookie heads back up the counter, wearing the smile of a child who just got caught toilet papering the neighbor's tree.
"Why don't you take her up on it?" Dawn asks.
I have no answer.
"I think the reason she did that," she says, "is to see you blush. And, boy, you oughta see yourself now!"
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Posted by Knoxxie03 on 2008-04-19 09:31:33 | Rating: | Views: 68
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LOL. Great story!
Don't you love it when something/someone comes into your life unexpectedly and suddenly your life has meaning, cohesion, fluidity... It's a great feeling, isn't it?
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Posted by crydun2004
on 2008-04-19 17:30:38
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Good for you for pursuing a new career. There's at ime you just have to say 'Ok, that's it, this all sucks and I'm chuckin it overboard. Now on to my next chapter in life'. :)
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Posted by hairytoad2005
on 2008-04-23 00:17:22
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