I stopped off at Judy's Donuts today and because I was on my motorcycle I had to drink my coffee and eat my chocolate french crueller in house instead of in the car.
Everyday (not that I go everyday) there is a group of men sitting in the pink plastic chairs, which are attached to the pink tables, and talk about their lives and mostly poke fun at each other. They are usually talking about the president, the war, the gas prices, the highway construction through town, and poking fun at each other.
Today, I sat in one of the pink chairs, eating my coffee and crueller, and got the distinct feeling that I was not a part of their community. When I just come in and buy my coffee and crueller and leave, I may get a nod from one of them, but to sit down and take up someone's place was an invasion. Today I kept getting looks from each of them at different times and the conversation got quiet as they looked over at me. I just kept drinking my coffee and slowly eating my crueller, looking straight ahead. I didn't want to intrude but dangit I have a right to sit in a public donut house's pink chair, which is attached to the pink table and drink my coffee and eat my crueller. No one was standing waiting for me it was more what will happen if Karl comes in and I'm in his chair?
Well, I finished drinking my coffee and eating my crueller, wiped the chocolate crumbs from my mouth and shirt, looked over at them, nodded, got up (which is difficult because the chairs are attached to the table and got on my motorcycle and drove off on Highway 41 to my next meeting at Starbucks, who did not show up, which gave me time to write this little post.
1 comment:
I really enjoyed this one. They have to be the same guys that are there when we would go splurgin with Spurgeon during past summers. I can picture them, and that place in my mind. How's Rah (sp?)?
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