No, I didn't have an omelet--and truth be told, I'm really not a big fan of omelets. Oh, I'll eat them on occasion, but I prefer the traditional Vegas breakfast of coffee, eggs, hashbrowns, toast, and some variety of meat. Steak if I'm feelin' saucy, ham if I'm feeling homesick, sausage if I want to change it up, or bacon because, well, Bacon is the King of All
But since it was almost 1:30 in the afternoon when I got there, I considered skipping breakfast altogether and just hitting the lunch menu. Of course, my fave gal Marcie was working, so she put me in a corner table in her section. I seemed to still be walking around lucky, as she only only had one other customer at the time, so she brought me a Coke sat down to visit.
Of course, in her obvious excitement to see me, she forgot to bring a menu over. So I told her to just pick something out and I'd eat it. But she wasn't playing that game, and fetched me a menu from the cashier stand. Duty called, so she had to actually work for a few minutes, so I sat there flipping the laminated menu back and forth between breakfast and lunch like Andy Reid trying to come up with a play with less than a minute left on the clock and no time-outs.
Breakfast was out, I decided. It was lunchtime. I was considering the 'American Delight' burger--just a plain ol' cheeseburger with bacon and Thousand Island, but when Marcie came back, we started looking at the sandies.
But the business of lunch was put aside as we just started talking and visiting. Normally, she's usually pretty busy and stops by to chit chat whenever she's got a free minute. But yesterday was slow as hell and she hung out for quite a bit, and we had a good conversation. Well, not really 'good', per se, she opened up and told me a lot about herself. I always figured she had a dude already (the good ones are always taken), so even though there was a definite spark from the first time I saw her, there was nothing there but a little casual conversation and innocent flirting. I had no shot.
As it turns out, she's about to be single again and her life is gonna be topsy-turvy. And it's not gonna be easy, either. Her work situation is exactly like mine--she's the lowest on the list of part-timers there at the restaurant, and only works four days a week for about six or seven hours a shift. But adding a degree of difficulty to the equation, she's got a couple of kids. I have no idea how she does it, knowing how tough it is for me to just take care of myself--I can't even begin to imagine being responsible for others. And the fact that the economy here in Vegas is completely in the shitter doesn't help much either, because it's just tough to find good jobs.
Overall, it was quite the sobering conversation. Again, it made me realize how lucky I am that my life is fairly simple. But it wasn't a downer at all--it just kind of felt like I was getting the "I know you're diggin' on me, but here's the situation before we go any further" speech. Anyhow, I guess it was a good conversation, because well, now the cards are on the table. We'll see what happens, if anything at all. And the truth is, that conversation was the inspiration for the previous post--I was thinking about it all afternoon. Normally, I'd run like Forrest Gump getting chased by rednecks in a pickup truck, but something tells me I should just go with the flow and see where this feather in the wind takes me.
But it wasn't all seriousness. Normally I bring a book or a magazine with me to read while I'm eating, but I forgot to grab something on the way out the door. But I had a couple of my new Ultra Lounge CDs in the truck, and the liner notes are chock-full with several pages of hip and swingin' commentary. So I brought those in to read, and the CD's were actually quite the conversation starter, in addition to being musically cooler than a freshly poured Bombay martini in a chilled glass. If you have not discovered the smoky hipness of old-skool lounge music, I highly recommend spending a few bucks and sampling the goods. If you like old Vegas, Mad Men, shag carpeting, skinny ties, and don't believe that second-hand smoke will kill you, than you'll love this stuff. Whenever I play it while driving down the Strip at night, it turns my truck into my own personal Copa Room on wheels.
Eventually, we got to the business at hand, and I ordered some lunch. I went with the Sassy Chicken Ranch sandwich, and I sassed it up even more by adding bacon to the mix. And instead of fries, I got a fruit cup on the side. I stopped short of going all Meg Ryan in there, though, as they frown on that kind of behavior. Well that, and nobody really wants to see my O-face when they're eating...
A few minutes later, my fruit cup arrived, more as an appetizer than a side order. It was a bowl full of juicy canteloupe, banana slices, and sweet sweet strawberries. But what made it even more spiffy was the fact that there was a lace paper doilie separating the bowl from the saucer. I've never had a doilie in a diner before, so there was a brief WTF? disconnect. Even out on Boulder Highway they can class it up, although it seemed a bit out of place, kinda like a wedding dress at a truck stop. But the fruit cup was a great substitute for french fries.
My sandie followed shortly thereafter, and I'd be lyin' if I didn't say it was damn good. Hell, it was excellent--probably the best thing I've had there in a dozen visits. Imagine a BLT with grilled chicken and jack cheese on a toasted sub roll, with a little bit of God's Favorite Condiment, ranch dressing, added for flavor. If I wasn't so stuffed when I finished it, I would've ordered another one just on general principle.
While I was getting my grub on, the restaurant started to get busier, so Marcie couldn't hang out at my table and visit. She told me to just chill for a bit when I was done, and I did, sipping on my free refills. But she got busier and couldn't really chat anymore, so I packed it up paid my tab. Before I did, I gave her my number and my email addy, telling her to call if she ever needed anything, and I left her a 250% tip, too. I've had a good week, and Life's Little Instruction Book says you should overtip breakfast waitresses anyways.
That was pretty much the highlight of my Wednesday. Once I got back to Casa de Mikey, I pretty much shut it down for the rest of the day. I was still really tired, so naptime came easily. A couple hours later, I considered playing some online poker, but I didn't want to commit the time to a tournament, so I unregistered a few minutes later. I was also thinking that I might be called into work again, so around 9:30 or so, I called it a night. Luckily, the phone didn't ring all night and I finally caught up on all that sleep I was missing.
Today, it seems, I'm free and clear. Yeah, I still have some chores around the house to do, and I need to go to the bank to deposit a couple hundred bucks (gotta buy new sunglasses), and I'm thinking I might head over to GVR and catch a movie or something this afternoon. If I get a wild hair, I might go play some poker, too.
But right now, it's breakfast time. I've been through a pot of coffee already, but I'm hungry for some real food. For some reason, scrambled eggs sound good.
Mikey
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