Greasy Spoon Reflections
In to every life must fall an existential lunch or two
I am waiting at Scottie’s for two burgers and a cherry pie for my dad and I. We’re working in his shop a few blocks away to fabricate roof racks upon which we will install solar panels for camper van Beethoven. The patrons here are mostly north of their mid-sixties. Lots of snow on the roof of these pudgy men. Cholesterol be damned. Though medication may keep their blood balanced, waistlines enjoy no such chemical magic.
Everyone is excited to be here. The small building is crammed with people and though jockeying for the best seats, there are plenty for everyone. One suspects this place was built at at time when people, Americans in particular, tended to be proportioned smaller. I particularly like the old-style diner counter that they have with little cushioned stools bolted to the floor. You get to eat lunch with one, maybe two, strangers while you both pretend the other one doesn't exist even though they are well within the tiny square of personal space we all unconsciously maintain.
A young hispanic mother has taken the booth across from me along with her infant and the child's grandmother. The pretty woman shakes her foot nervously as grandma holds the new child. It is strange to me that though attractive, she wears too much makeup and too little that befits being in public. Not that it's immodest by any stretch... I am thinking of my wife's insistence that a certain standard must be met before one steps out into the world. We have never been a fan of sweatpants outside of the gym. Then again, young mothers very likely have different priorities than two middle-aged artists who've never been parents.
Grandma has the infant laughing while mom looks on. Neither mom nor his small child realizes how this moment is one of countless that will be forgotten in specifics but not emotions. Like a single brick in a fine home, times like this are building strong walls of good memory for this little human. I suspect grandma might understand. I imagine one day this little girl will sit where I do and be reminded of this feeling she is experience right now. S he won't be able to recall why it gives her a warm glow, just that it does.
Ah! Burgers up! Time for lunch, warm glows and fuzzy memories chased away by living in the moment and the smell of hot grease and salt.
I hope they didn't forget my cherry pie.
#essay #memoir #confession #sxsw
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