Sunday, October 2, 2011
A human condition.....
I treated myself to breakfast at a local eatery. Just myself... which warranted my being seated at the grand '1.5 humans' sized table across from crabby row at the counter.
As I waited my 'Ham and cheese, rye, coffee' order, I had time to contemplate a very human condition. The world over, old men gravitate to the counters at local food venders. On certain days, at certain times.... the elderly flock of men swings leg over stool and take their places like ancient birds on a wire. Over scrambled eggs, grilled buns, and gallons of coffee served eight ounces at a time, the old men grouch and grumble to each other about life, politics, sports, old women, kids.... and any other subject that wanders within striking range.
A tradition that goes back generations, emerging from the ages... No one needs to be told when it's their turn at the counter. They just know. It's built into their genetic heritage. It comes with the grey hair and the permanently scruffy chin. It's writ in the very bones... one day there is a seat, and another old man will sit on it unbidden, as if passing yet one more way-point in life unnoticed.
All these thoughts tumbled through my mind as I waited my ham and cheese omelet, home fries, and rye toast. Then, as breakfast arrived, I saw myself sitting just a few feet from that counter, alone with my thoughts, my grey hair, and my scruffy chin.