Thursday, August 04, 2005

the oranges are ripe in valencia

i walk into the place. it's more like a "joint" than a place. three old people, with a collective age of at least 210, are smoking and drinking coffee at the semi-circular counter. their heads turn my way as i enter the one story cinderblock building painted red and yellow. each one gives me a hearty and, i do beleive, sincere "howdy."

the waitress is about 5 foot 7 and must be no more than 110 pounds, 10 of those pounds are her hair and makeup. if she had a coke habit or a meth habit, i would not be shocked. some people's lives are written right there on thier face, and this lady's life was written by bukowski, or whoever wrote "less than zero." she also gives me a "howdy" and i take a seat at the counter.

i am dining with "all my friends" (my euphamism for all alone). i ask what's good, i get the reply of "it's all good" but not in an "urban-youth-jerry springer" kind of way. no sarcasm, no wink, no feeble attempt at humor by refrencing modern culture. it was an honest reply. i get the buffalo burger. mmmmm, buffalo.

the old people are smoking like they are having an AA meeting, and they have obviously been smoking for years, as evidenced by the spectacular cough on the lady. they are happy, and are having a good conversation, and they are not embarrassed by it in the least. they are loud enough for all to enjoy, and i think join in, or at least feel included, but not so loud as to be intrusive. they glance my way as if to include me. i smile and nod.

living in japan, i was quite used to eating out alone. no big deal, most people are alone in that country, by choice or not. i was alone in a crowd of people, and that was natural, expected. in the states, however, in many places there is a wierd stigma attached to being alone. i used to be self concious about it, but now, i don't much care. sometimes being lonely is better than being with someone who grates on you like nails on a chalkboard.

the waitress throws out some one liners, comments with no *need* for reply, but a reply would not be out of place if you choose to speak up. perfectly crafted, whether she meant it or not. maybe she is being polite, maybe genuinely wanting to talk to someone closer to her age, maybe trying to make me feel less alone in her own way. is she pittying me?!?!?

hahaha, how full of hubris can i get? not everyone has an ulterior motive. (i'd like to believe that, i really would). i make a remark or two, based off her comment, a variation on a theme, turning her monologue into not so much a dialogue, but two monologues that dovetail nicely. she goes about her business. she isn't too busy, but keeps moving, earning her paycheck or whatever.

this place is a small, "locals" kind of place. i realize how far removed from humanity i have become. everyday people live like this. no movers or shakers, no business deals, no power lunches, no pretentions, none of that false crap that people mistake for something that matters.

the food...not so hot. i've had better, i've had worse. but what sells it is the atmosphere. and they didn't even try to have any. it was real. real life. with it's bad dyed hair, its tuberculean cough, it's conteded happiness on the inside, despite what it looks like on the outside.

"willy", another ancient, apparently known by all players on this stage but me, drove up with his RV, walked in with his wrinked tattooed arms and his tank of oxygen, with the tube up his nose. (the smokers commented how they went through a tank just today. willy didn't need oxygen while he ate, he just used it for walking around, emphysema does that to you i guess) willy sat down and had some dinner. as he ate, the smoking gang finshied their coffee and headed out. willy was left dining with "all his friends." i wished him a good night as i walked out the door.

i wonder if i was just granted a glimpse into my future?

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