Biscuits & Gravy

Door opens, bell chimes, feet are wiped on the buff-

colored bristle carpet, jacket is removed at the 'Please Wait

to be Seated' ;

Led to a corner booth where forest green covers

complement the torn maroon menus.

At the very first seven seater: Larry, Mel, Jr., Charlie,

Thelbert, and sometimes Dick, all happily scowling into

their cupped steaming coffees, forever refilled.

Behind the counter, scrapes and sizzles dance to

Light Rock.

The frayed menu lists every American, Italian, &

Greek item a person could dream of. Pause and browsing

is practiced to read the daily soup posted in cursive on

whiteboard: 'cheddar bratwurst'.

Pat flitters across the floor and shuffles the little blue

papers to a clean page as she unzips a wide grin

to ask "What’ll it be today dearie?"

The answer is almost "This. This is all I needed" but

then interrupts a little ding of an "Orderrr up!",

so what is said instead is "A full order of those

hot biscuits & gravy please."