I went to breakfast two Sundays ago at a local restaurant that would be right at home on Guy Fieri’s TV Show “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” This place fits the “Dive” requirements to a “T”. When I got there at about 10:30 a.m., there was a line of people out the front door waiting to be seated. I gave a thought to turning around and continuing on with my day, but as the line was moving pretty quickly, I decided to wait no more than 5 minutes.
The wait to be seated didn’t take long, and the manager asked me and the older man in front of me in line if we minded sharing a table. We both said “sure, no problem” at the same time, introduced ourselves, got seated, ordered breakfast, and spent the next 90 minutes getting to know each other.
My breakfast partner’s name was Frank, and he said he had just come from church and was on his way to spend the day with his son who had recently purchased a foreclosed home and was fixing it up. I told him my name, a little bit about myself, and we chatted. We talked about politics, living in the D.C. area, real estate, retirement, and health issues.
I learned a bit about his family, his work, and his retirement in that his 41-year-old son was going through a bad divorce, was missing his 3 children, and that he was suffering from chronic leukemia. When Frank was telling me about his son’s health problems, he had tears in his eyes. He took a gulp of his decaf and cleared his throat; I looked away because I didn’t want him to feel self-conscious.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed my breakfast with Frank. He was a real gentleman, and he reminded me of a previous boss who died about a year ago. It was kind of odd looking at him across his Western Omelet knowing his name was Frank, and yet he reminded me of Dick.
I also liked the fact that he never said a word to me about the egg yolk that I dribbled down the front of my shirt.