Breakfast was as expected. Eggs, coffee, and strangers. I am much better with strangers. The waitress was second, maybe third generation. One of those special beings where waitress is in the genes. She played to stereotype in her own style. Her gimmick was her crooked, Elvis-like, smile. The girl knew how to makes instant friends. Her secret ingredient was a sneer.
Coffee refills were quick exchanges. Little substance, lots of touch. She knew a diner type when she saw one. I played along. Spotted the regulars pretty quickly. The head nod, non-smiler acknowledged as he turned the page of his USA Today. He was mid-west right from central casting. The three older guys wondered where the completion of their foursome was. He showed up as I checked out. Norman Rockwell and Garrison Keller kissed a boo-boo on where did America go. It was right here any morning you pulled in. Sometimes partially there, always fully accounted for. The waitress wished me well knowing I would be headed out of town soon after dinner, if not before. Two blocks down she said. Shady Rest. Nice clean rooms, family run, and the best price in town. She knew I would say hi to Patty. I was the type. She had me in her radar before the eggs left their home.
I was good tired. Drove to the motel right through Back to the Future. Time warps still get to me. I ain’t afraid of what’s ahead. What’s behind can still look good all the same. If this wasn’t called Main Street, they screwed up. A nickel and a dime didn’t even cover the tax anymore but the hardware emporium still fit the bill. Hard to resist going in. They would have streamers as well as handle grips for my bike. A bike somewhere back then that moved with me as the true value of the same old stuff increased my self worth. I smiled from the inside and carried it into the motel office along with my car keys and a message from the waitress. Patty looked like I expected. My eyes was happy. Soon they were closed and deep in sleep.
I was up ten minutes before two, just in case. She knocked on the door ten minutes after two, just in time. Her kids got home at four so we got right to it.
She tasted like she just got off work. I sopped her up like Thanksgiving gravy. Every nook and cranny held a whimper and a moan. Each sound fed my hunger. She was my reward for passing through. I was her consolation prize for staying. I did my best not to represent him. She did her best not to resent him. Still he was there. We both wondered where he was and if he knew what he was missing. We both knew he did and it was still not enough for him to stay. For the moment, this was his loss so we both celebrated.
For just less than two hours, she loved me. I loved her. We spent too little time in that place where bad stuff looks away and good stuff joins the party. We both needed exactly where we each had to offer. We rode the first wave for as long as it lasted and surfed a few until life called us to other places. There weren’t many words exchanged. They weren’t needed.
I headed out of town before dinner. She was eating alone with her kids. Nothing in that town would taste right knowing that. A little bit of me stayed in that town when I headed East. A little bit of her left. Fair exchange.
She understood travelers. She just chose to stay home with the kids. She is that kinda good. Good for her. Good for them. Good for a lot more than she appreciates and most folks ever really understand. I could still taste her inside and out as Kansas shrunk. I smiled because, quite frankly, she tasted damn good.
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