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|Apple Pie and Coffee (standard:humor, 1629 words)|
|Author: Reid Laurence||Added: Apr 11 2007||Views/Reads: 2045/1086||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|How about all those people with them fancy college degrees? Are they really necessary in a world so riddled with chaos and disorder? Read on, and find out...|
A man in his late forties - quite unremarkable in appearance - pressed on the tempered glass, double doors of a bustling Chicago diner and as he did, was surprised to find that one of the doors in the pair did not open in the direction he wished it to move. Therefore, by this method of trial and error he entered, walked practically unnoticed to the counter and found solace in a stool which he gravitated to, more then likely because it offered seclusion at the end of the long counter in which he chose to sit. Eyeing a city newspaper that had been left on the counter by a previous patron of the restaurant, he gathered up its many pages and began leafing through it - not so much for the knowledge therein, but more so for the privacy it offered him, behind the contents of its tall, black and white sheets which conveniently hid him from the rest of the clientele. Suddenly noticing this newly arrived customer, a waitress - both physically fit from the exercise demanded by her position and youthful in demeanor - strode subtly toward this odd man and quaintly asked, in terms both endearing and plainly understandable, what it was he'd like to eat, or so it would seem, to most casual observers... “What'll it be mack?” she remarked, in a way people living in that large, busy city had heard many times before. And this curious, shy fellow answered by remarking, “uhhh... apple pie and coffee,” accompanied by a most puzzled expression on his ageing, weathered face. “Com'in up,” she replied, and in turning to walk away, she inadvertently left him alone to his own devices - as he had been upon his arrival - and once again, opened the newspaper which only moments before had successfully shielded him from any innocent onlooker who may have glanced in his direction. Only a few brief minutes had passed on the clock which hung fast to one of the restaurant walls before his ebullient server came back - pie and coffee in hand - and set them down before him in a most expedient manner. “That all ya want?” she followed up with, as anyone would have expected. But when all that was served up to her was a glance accompanied by a smile, she reiterated the question by probing yet further and asking, “is that it?” Upon having received no reply to her simple enquiry, she gave up on her customer, shook her head in displeasure, slammed a check on the counter and walked with meaning to some of the other, presumably hungrier patrons in her domain. Just as he was finishing eating the generous portion of apple pie, a stranger sat down in the seat next to him, and noticing the newspaper laying between them on the counter, he nonchalantly asked, “hey buddy, you done with that paper?” But strangely enough, all that he received in response to his question was a brief smile and the warm but dissociated reply, “apple pie and coffee.” “Huh?” replied the man, and wondering if he'd been heard, asked again, “the paper bud... ya done with it?” But again, just as plainly as the first time, the only response was, “apple pie and coffee.” Now angry, feeling that he may possibly be the brunt of some bad joke, the newly arrived customer simply took what he felt was his for the taking, and with a triumphant stare directed at its former owner, gathered up the pages of the newspaper in his hand and began in earnest to read, hardly taking notice that the man he'd been at odds with over it was now getting ready to leave the diner, just as quietly as he'd come in. Leaving the protection of his paper shield behind, this fellow of so few words, dressed neatly in a plain black suit with white shirt, found himself staring at a sign above one of the city's many underground train entrances. Having resolved himself to the fact that the large white letters of the sign which read; WASHINGTON AVE meant next to nothing to him, he began the long trip down the concrete stairway and continued to walk until he'd reached the end of his journey, which seemed to be for the time being, the platform of the Washington avenue train stop. Standing in awe at what so many had taken for granted for so long, it didn't take much time before someone - in fact, a young man in his early twenties - came along and without taking notice, bumped into the arm of the awestruck stranger. “Sorry dude,” he said, in response to what had happened. But when no reply came from the man he'd bumped into - other then a nervous smile and a look of apprehension - this same Click here to read the rest of this story (82 more lines)
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