Welcome to Mom's Diner
Steven D. Bennett
Copyright 2011 by Steven D. Bennett
Welcome to Mom's Diner!
One? Let me grab a menu. Okay, follow me.
You're a smoker, I see, and you look like you could use a quiet booth in the corner after your long drive. Away from the light, where you can sit and watch everybody else. How about this one?
How did I know? It's no trick, really. After thirteen years in a diner you get to know people. The smoking part was easy; you've got a pack of cigarettes in your front pocket. Plus you smell smoky, if you don't mind me saying so. Oh, no, I like the smell. Marlborough's, if I'm any good at guessing. And your eyes have the familiar look of someone who's seen too much road recently. I'd bet you're trying to make time and are a little on edge. If so, then you'd want to be away from the light, probably in a corner, away from people but facing them just the same. Are you in sales? I knew it. Salesmen always love watching people but sometimes get plain talked out, so if I talk too much you just tell me. I get to be a regular Chatty Cathy when I get going.