Sally's Diner

March came “in like a lion,” so there is plenty of dirty and compacted snow filling my open backed heels as he gently escorts me down the slippery ramp to his car. Normally I wear tall white pleather “go-go” boots, a mini skirt, and false eyelashes. The standard uniform for cocktail waitresses on the night club strip in downtown. But tonight, a little too “disco” for a first date…

I lucked out and was assigned to work coat check tonight. That means I could dress in street clothes for my shift. Not usually a big deal, but tonight, Ted a member of our house band, has invited me to join him after we close for a late dinner. I would not have able to go back to my place to change out of my uniform before we went out anyway. I am living with a co-worker whose five children are all little night owls. A few too many sleepy children for a first date…

After the last coat was handed off to the last customer to leave the bar, I took advantage of the one free drink we were allowed during our shift. My favorite Merlot was poured by Sam my favorite bartender. I was school-girl giddy as we both toasted the first date I have had since my messy divorce a year earlier.

Me and my Merlot waited patiently while Ted tore down his equipment and pushed it out of sight backstage. Not much is even open this late or should I say, early in the morning. An agreed upon after work favorite of us both is Sally’s all-night Diner. Besides being open late, it is a few miles out of town. This way we could avoid bumping into any of our customers. They are great to serve and entertain, but we need a little distance from the “maddening crowd.”

Two cheeseburgers later, Ted and I are buddies. Lots of laughs and stories are shared around the antics of the bar guests who fill our nights with fun and on occasion chaos. We both agree it is challenging and yet fortunate to be able to work on the outer perimeters of what feels like one big party, night after night, while earning a living.

One year later, we are not only best friends, but we are deeply in love. While driving home after another busy Saturday night, my soulmate makes an un-scheduled stop at a local park. In the soft glow of headlights and a full moon “the question” is asked. A squealed “Yes!” resounds into the night from the open windows of his “65” Mustang convertible.

Eager to share the good news with our co-workers, I go in a bit early the next evening. I am excited to see Sam, still my favorite bartended and now friend, at his station. I rush up and gush out the great news through tears of joy! Since our first toast together, I have trusted Sam. His joking and teasing ways, smoothed over many a mixed-up order. On occasion he even shared a bit of his more mature wisdom when this twenty-one-year-old cocktail waitress struggled through the complexities of her young life.

So, it took my breath away, when my sage of a friend leaned over the bar and hissed in my naive’ happy face: “I give it six months!”

That was forty-nine years ago. We were married in January of the next year. As is the way of most Anniversary celebrations, Wedding is usually the Alpha. But in our minds, that first date at our local diner is indeed the date to lend our greatest homage. Yes, marriage is sacred, but we always contended, without that one magical first date, there would have been no marriage, children, grand-children, and extended family.

So, it is no surprise, and even expected that every year on our “first date Anniversary” we would be found seated in the same booth at Sally’s late-night diner. We did this for forty-nine years. It had gotten so Sally, who also had aged considerably, still recognized us and had our booth reserved the entire day, just waiting. Ted’s band room downstairs is even decorated in signed menus, mugs, advertising posters, and sweatshirts from the Diner. They were the only items I could not part with after the funeral.

This year will be my last Anniversary visit to Sally’s. We were just days short of our fiftieth first date anniversary when he left. I can not bear to do this without him after today. One last farewell, while I know he is still beside me in our booth. I will wait until it is very late, so there will be fewer people in the diner. It was pushing two o’clock a.m. by the time we were seated almost five decades ago. I cannot sleep, so it will be easy to honor the time of our first date.

Sally is standing at the door. She hugs me as she steers me toward our booth. There seated in Ted’s spot is Sam. My old and long-lost friend, Sam. He had remembered, after all these years. He apologizes for his cruel outburst at the bar years ago and waves for Sally to join us. Sally winks and disappears into the kitchen, only to return with a tray holding four glasses and a bottle of my favorite Merlot. We fill the glasses and toast the love of my long and happy life.

“I will see you again, Ted. I give it six months…”