|
Everyone's aware that the old truck stop at the edge of town is a
good place to eat and drink coffee, which is why it's a favorite
with the locals. When the interstate came by, three miles away, we
believed the cafe would become another victim of progress. But the
truck drivers kept driving the extra six miles so they could sit in
comfort and use the coffee cups hanging on the wall with their names
on them, and gain another 2 pounds eating the Barn's famous
chicken-fried steak that would make a decent meal for any two
sensible people.
Out on the interstate is the new truck stop, with showers and
telephone plug-ins and an entire selection of Louis L'Amour tapes
for drivers bored with driving late at night. But still, many
drivers detour to the edge of town and are greeted by the waitresses
as family.
[to top of second
column]
 |
All we know is that's where we like to go. It's another home.
So when Doc brought along an old medical school pal who lives in
a city in the next state and introduced him to the guys, we weren't
surprised. It's what we do when we like someone.
But after a couple of cups, and after repairing several gaps in
the world's collective thinking, Doc's friend had this to say, and
we just nodded.
"You know, when we came in here, our waitress said, 'Hi, Hon. How
you doing today?' She brought me a cup of coffee without my even
asking. In 40 years of marriage, I believe that's happened twice."
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by "Ol’ Max Evans: The First
Thousand Years." Available at
www.slimrandles.com.
 |
