Breakfast for two in thanksgiving day.
I was sitting in the corner table of this little town diner, trying to have full view of the whole place and the parking lot outside,on the other side of the road...Small town...Nothing going on...Kind of a groundhog day type town...
-Coffee sir?-was the tiny voice of a tiny creature talking from behind my shoulder.
-Absolutely!-i said trying to tell the little creature,maybe a sophomore at the town's high school that she looked quite like the lady behind the counter-Are you related to the owners?
-Yes sir.Everybody is related to everybody,in a town like ours,with only one main street,and only one set of traffic lights.
-Wow,kinda groundhog day type of town!?-i repeated what i thought just minutes ago.
-Right sir,and you look a little bit like Bill Murray!-she said and walked to the bar with no rush, probably not wanting to rush out the only person not related to anybody in this tiny town somewhere between Minnesota and Wisconsin, not too far from highway 94,near Black River Falls,where it seems like nothing happen,never.
The door opened slow and a man in his sixties after entered saying "...mornin, everyone" ,then went to the window booth and made the order,"coffee for me and light ginger ale for Francine...She is watching what she is eating, cuz she is gaining weight lately.Don't you think,Marla?-he asked the waitress in "confidence",and she ,with the same "confidence",No I don't think so,sir,she looks fine.-That's my girl!-the man turned toward me,pointing the waitress,-Marla is a sweetheart.Never hurt anybody.Do i know you from somewhere?-he turned toward me.
-I don't think so,sir,i'm from Boston.
-What brings you here ,business?Business i would guess,otherwise who would like to come to this place that's creepy like Cohen Brothers movies?!Fargo.Hell on earth.Anyway,I have to go.I'm sure Francine isn't going to have breakfast.Damn,with those weight losing shows on TV.Has been quite a time,she forget how important is to have a good grand slam breakfast.You have a wonderful day folks,and i see you tomorrow again.And you sir,have a nice day,and if your intentions are bad,like killing people or so,like Billy Bob Thornton and the criminal syndicate,change mind and go home,because it's a very bad day to die.Have a very good day to you,my good man.
-Same to you sir...i said not really sure that this conversation had happened for real,so i turned to Marla,who was bringing my breakfast,two eggs over easy, bacon and sausage.-What was this-i asked her with a low voice not wanting the other people to shear.
-Two years ago,in a morning like this,his wife got killed from a truck driver,crossing the only main street with the only traffic lights in town,right in the front of this diner.Her name was Francine,and since then her husband,the man you just saw,comes here every morning,the same as they had done for 23 years,orders breakfast for two and leaves without touching a thing.Every morning,can you believe that?I wish one day, i meet a man like him to love me like her.
-I believe you will,i said and i went out for a walk to digest what i just had experienced in this thanksgiving day,in a little town where everyone was related to everyone,a town with only a main street and only a set of traffic lights.Outside the snow was falling quiet like in the movies of Cohen Brothers...
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