Choices

Billy and I sat at the counter of the diner. Pretty cool place, like you were sitting in a diner from their heyday. Jukeboxes at every third seat, grill right in front of you. Real silverware on top of your napkins, china plates, plus real milk shakes served in glasses. Not paper, not styrofoam. Paper straws served in glass dispensers.

“What’ll you get?” Billy intently perused the menu.

I’m in a diner. I knew. “Patty melt and strawberry shake.”

“You sound pretty sure about that. You didn’t even look at the menu. There’re lots of choices.”

“Billy, if this place cannot make a decent patty melt or shake, then it isn’t a decent diner.”

“Suit yourself.” He buried himself in the menu again.

A waitress appeared, her paper pad and pencil at the ready. “Want to order?”

“Give us a few,” Billy mumbled. The waitress wandered to other patrons.

I checked the time. Only a few minutes to spare in my lunch hour.

“Haven’t you made up your mind yet?”

“Lynette, you cannot rush something as important as this meal. It cannot be too heavy, and it cannot be too light. I have to think about the carb load and the fats. My afternoon is full of Zoom meetings. I have to be alert.”

I sighed, reconsidered this choice of lunch companion. He wanted to get involved, get serious. But really, if someone cannot decide what to eat for lunch, well, what kind of life companion could or would that be?

“This is the last straw,” I proclaimed.


“What? No, look there’s a ton more.” Billy indicated the straw dispenser.

“You really are clueless.”

On the way back to work, I found a food truck with awesome tacos. After all, this was Tuesday. It’s good to have choices some days.

W/C 300