Not Always as it Appears

We left the club at 2 a.m. to gather at our regular diner stop to sober up before going home. Sitting in the corner booth, I was able to see everyone coming and going. Plates were clinking from the kitchen as the cook prepared early morning dishes to pass out to the few night owls that were hanging out. It was quiet in the diner. A man sat at the counter drinking coffee and he seemed to be keeping an eye on his watch. Groups of 3 or 4 were scattered at tables looking over menus and laughing about the evening they had just enjoyed. I decided to indulge on a tuna melt and steak fries. My friends had their minds set on breakfast. The only waitress on duty approached the table and gathered our orders. We were regular once a week visitors, so she brought us our usual coffee and let us know that she would return with our orders shortly. Quiet music could be heard throughout the diner. Low ambient lighting lit the tables and counter. A low humming of conversation took place among the few patrons that were paying their respects at 2 a.m. The diner was the place to hang out and get right before calling it a night.

Within 30 minutes, our food made it to the table. Silence fell among us as we filled our bellies full of food. The remaining people in the diner began to shuffle out the door and the waitress reminded us again that if we needed anything just to let her know. The man at the counter still sat with a full cup of, now cold, coffee keeping time on his watch. He was an older man, gray haired and worn, dressed in blue jeans and a button-down shirt and he never raised his head. Something just did not seem right. My friends and I sat and continued to drink coffee for another hour before deciding to finally head home. The girls decided to hit the bathroom and I continued to drink my coffee at the table. Suddenly, a man enters through the diner door. He whispered to the waitress and she pointed to the man sitting at the counter. The man was tall and dressed in a black suit. He quickly scanned the diner making mental notes of who was around. He joined the man at the counter. Blue jeans finally looked up from the counter and was not surprised to see this man join him. Blue jeans glared at the suited man intently. Suddenly, it was as though the aura had completely shifted from procrastinating from going home to wondering if I should be leaving now.

The girls finally made it back from the bathroom. They asked if I was ready to go. I froze. Something was telling me that it was not time to leave yet. The waitress brought another round of coffee. Trying not to be obvious, I intently watched the interaction between the two men. Documents and pictures were being passed back and forth. Blue jeans looked upset. Suddenly, the man in the suit pulled his jacket back to show blue jeans the gun holstered on his hip. Now it was time for us to make our way out of the diner. The three of us stood up and made our way to the register to pay the waitress for our food. Suddenly, blue jeans stands up and yells at suit man that he had no idea what he was talking about. The scene had just been set. The man in the suit tries to calm blue jeans down. We paid our bill and left quickly to the parking lot. The three of us walked in a huddled group and jumped into the car. I felt sorry for the waitress that was still inside the diner playing referee between the two men.

I could not help but lay in bed and think about what I had just witnessed in the diner. I wondered what was really going on between the two men. Did we just witness a crime in progress or maybe a police interrogation at the counter? I tossed and turned for another hour before finally drifting off to sleep.

Later that morning I opened my eyes. I staggered to the coffee pot preparing my morning eye opener. Sipping on coffee, I reached for the morning paper. After several sips, the blurriness began to make sense. I focused on the newspaper to an article featuring the diner I had been at just hours before. The title read, “Middle of the Night Madness”. I could not have been completely woken up any faster. My mind raced to thoughts of a mob hit, maybe a robbery, or a police operation of some sort. I thought of blue jeans and suit and wondered if their confrontation turned bad. Then I thanked above for letting us leave there when we did.

I continued to read the article printed in the newspaper. Once I began reading the words, and I would not stop until I reached the end. I was stunned. All I could think about is what an imagination I must have. I rehearsed the events of what I had seen just a few hours before. Documents and pictures were being passed between the two. Blue Jean’s look adamant denial. A gun holstered to suit’s hip. The newspaper pointed out that the “Middle of the Night Madness”, was nothing more than a planned prank on blue jeans. A prank that was planned by blue jean’s family in announcement of his inheritance of millions of dollars from a long-lost uncle. The pictures and documents being shown were to confirm his identity. The prank was a stipulation of the will to be carried out for blue jeans to receive the millions. Blue jeans will never have to work again or worry about his family’s well-being. His entire life was changed in a 24-hour diner. The 24/7 diner seems to be the middle of the night meeting place for the strange and unusual. It also seems to be the place for your imagination to run wild.