Johnny and the Jukebox

It was the last day of school and I was ready to start the summer of 1968. Drinking coca-cola in the sun, driving down to the beach, maybe finally standing up on a surfboard, all that and more dreams of a seventeen-year-old would come later in the summer; my summer was starting off with a fifteen hour work shift. I told myself not to complain. In my case, being stuck at work wasn’t the absolute worst case. I worked at the family diner, Harry’s. My dad considered it to be the last remaining piece of real American culture the town had left, but the rest of the town (judging by our sales for the last couple of years) considered it outdated. Being stuck at work wasn’t the worst case scenario because there wasn’t much to do. Usually, my best friend Lois would come by and order a cherry coca-cola. My dad’s buddies, Frank, George, and Mike might trickle in later in the evening to grab a coffee after work. I wracked my brain trying to think of the last time any customers besides Lois, Frank, George, or Mike had stepped foot in the diner. I wracked my brain harder trying to figure out how we were still in business. My dad had had offers for the property before, and he had turned them down. The diner was his pride and joy, and his life’s work. I loved the diner too, but it wasn’t my pride and joy, and I certainly didn’t see it as my life’s work, even if I did seem to spend most hours of my life working there.

This day wasn’t unlike any other. I parked my bike in front of the diner, walked inside, and put on my Harry’s Diner apron. I watched out the window as the rest of my highschool pulled into Melvin’s Diner where they were served right from their cars by girls on rollerskates.The door opened with a ding.

“Relax,” said Lois, who had just walked through the door. “Not everyone from Bridgeport High is at Melvin’s.”

I laughed as I slid a cherry soda in her direction.

“You and me, Betty.”

“You and me are here.” I responded with a sarcastic heir of triumph. “Everything’s everything.”

Lois took a sip of her soda. “I had a brilliant idea.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I responded.

“We’ll have our annual sleepover here tonight.”

“While I’m working?”

“We both know you don't have any work to do.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“You’re right, you’re right, we can’t just break a ten year Betty and Lois tradition.”

“Right on!” Lois exclaimed as she leaned back in her seat.

“Ya know, I had a brilliant idea of my own.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Lois joked.

“This summer, I’m gonna convince my dad to sell this place.”

“Get out!” Lois sounded shocked. “You love Harry’s.”

“I loved Harry’s,” I corrected her. “I mean, I grew up here. It’s only natural that it would feel like home. Even when I was a kid, business was slow. Then Melvin’s opened, and honestly, I don’t know how my dad’s been able to keep this place afloat. He tells me about the good old days when business was booming and people would come in here and dance holes in their shoes all night. I know he doesn’t want to let that go, but I’ve got a plan. We’ll sell the property to that car dealer who’s been after it for ages. He’ll give us a groovy new car as part of the payment, and I’ll be able to drive us to the beach this summer so we can finally learn to surf.”

“Alright, well, good luck convincing Harry.”

“I’ll just show him the sales report for the last five years. He can’t ignore it any longer.”

“Alright, fine, you’re gonna sell the diner. Let’s worry about that later. For now, let’s focus on our annual party.”

“Oh, it’s a party now?” I laughed.

“Well, it will be.” said Lois. She looked across the street. “I’m sure we can get some of the gang over here by the end of the night.” She looked back at me. “Maybe even a few boys.”

“Sure, maybe we could.” I tipped my head towards the back of the diner where an old jukebox stood collecting dust. “If the jukebox still worked.”

Lois sighed. We both turned our heads to the window. Across the street, Melvin’s was filled with teenagers. They were blasting their car radios and having a blast. It looked like Lois and I would be stuck at the diner alone while the rest of our highschool threw a last-day-of-school jam.

The sun set and the kids were still out, ordering round after round of food from the rollerskate clad chicks. Lois and I sat in a booth drinking round after round of chocolate shakes, laughing about all the boys we used to crush on.

The moon came out and the kids were still out. Lois and I had fallen asleep on the table. We were awoken by a load, “this place open?” I raised my head slowly, then remembering that I was still on a shift, shot up out of my seat and yelled, “yes!”

“I mean, uh-” I lowered my voice. “Yes, yes. We’re open 24/7.” In front of me stood one of the coolest looking cats I had ever seen, but his bell bottom jeans seemed to be soaking wet.

“Groovy!” He said. He opened the door. That’s when I noticed it was pouring outside. “Come on in!” He yelled. A swarm of teenagers poured through the door.

“I’ll have a hot dog!” One yelled.

“A coco-cola for me,” said another.

“Lois!” I pulled her out of the booth she was still drowsily sitting in. “Get an apron on. I need you to take orders.” She looked around, her eyes still trying to fully open.

“Wha-what is going on?”

I laughed. I guess Melvin’s can’t operate in the rain.

Lois and I scrambled to fulfill all the orders, laughing the whole time. The kids were laughing too. They just needed a place to take their party, fast service was the least of their concerns.

The cool cat who had come in the door at midnight walked over to me as I held two trays above my head.

“I never got to introduce myself,” he said. “Johnny.” He held out his hand. I looked down at his hand then up at the trays I was carrying. He laughed and lowered his hand.

“Betty,” I said. He walked with me towards the booth.

“So how about that old jukebox?”

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Only she hasn’t worked in years.” Before I knew it, Johnny had pulled out a dime and fed it to the jukebox. I delivered the two trays and watched in awe as he punched it a few times and it lit up.

“Whaddayaknow!” He yelled across the diner to me. Music blared and everyone got up to dance. Johnny took my hand.

“So Betty, what’s the story behind this place?” I laughed. What a story it was. For the first time in my life I understood why my dad refused to sell the diner. I understood why he called it his pride and joy, why he put all of his work into it. There was truly something magical that happened when the town got together and the jukebox turned on and we danced holes in our shoes all night long.

I didn't know what the fate of our family diner would be. All I knew that night was that it was because of Johnny and the jukebox that I finally understood what it was really all about.