A Tale

Bill sat in a counter seat beside Henry.

Counter seats have a way of inspiring conversations between two strangers. Perhaps it is the way that most seats at a counter are swiveling stools, and a diner can easily swivel to talk with a person to his left or his right.

Perhaps, this openness is caused by counter-seat neighbors eating elbow to elbow. If you’re going to shovel food in your mouth seated so close to a stranger doing the same thing, you might as well shoot the breeze, pass the time of day, chat.

So, Bill and Henry found themselves, side by side, two strangers waiting for their orders, seated at the counter.

After a few pleasant comments about the weather, their dining experiences at this location and the quality of the food, Henry couldn’t help notice the folded newspaper that Bill had placed on the counter.

“You know,” Henry said, looking over the rims of his glasses at Bill, “it’s horrible all the things that are going on.”

“Yeah,” Bill answered. “Terrible, and they just keep getting worse and worse.”

“Absolutely, and it doesn’t help that they can’t seem to leave anything alone,” Henry sighed, relieved to learn he would be sharing his eggs with someone who saw things his way.

“Yeah,” Bill said, “they are really causing the …”

“Causing the ruination of America,” Henry finished.

“Yeah,” Bill smiled. “The ruination of America.”

Both men lifted their coffee cups, gave a small arcing salute. They

toasted without clinking their mugs, before taking a sip, warming to their subject.

“Oh, the things they say, too,” Henry said. “The lies.”

“The deceit, the dishonesty, the fabrication and manipulation of cold, hard facts to suit their aims, to fit their agenda,” Bill said.

“Yes,” Henry said. “It drives me crazy. I can’t stand hearing them speak.”

“It gets me so riled,” Bill said, pausing, chuckling. “Do you ever … Do you ever …”

“Get so mad, I throw something at the TV?” Henry finished.

“Yeah,” Bill laughed. “That’s something. That’s really something. That’s exactly what I was gonna say.”

“And I do it, too,” Henry laughed. “I’ve thrown magazines, pillows, the newspaper. All of it at the TV because I can’t believe the garbage that they’re spewing.”

“Yeah,” Bill said, “my wife tells me I’m gonna bust the screen some day, and then I’ll really be mad.”

Henry’s eggs arrived.

“Over-easy,” Bill said, seeing Henry’s eggs. “Me, too.”

Henry raised his coffee cup. Bill raised his cup. A small arcing salute.

A toast without clinking their mugs.

Henry took a few bites of eggs and toast. Bill’s eggs over-easy arrived, and he did the same. Both men wiped up the runny yellows with their wedges of toast.

“We were talking about yelling at the TV,” Henry said. “There were some of them on the other day, after the President …”

“Yeah,” Bill said. “They’re always backing him …”

“Backing him,” Henry said. “They’re not. … I’m talking about the Republicans.”

“The Republicans,” Bill said, stiffening. “I’m talking about the Democrats.”

They stared at each other a few seconds. Both shook their heads, sighed, and returned to their eggs. They didn’t say another word to one another.

It should be noted that they both ate the rest of their eggs so quickly that they didn’t waste time to wipe away a bit of yellow-and-white on both of their faces.

Dean Poling is an editor with The Valdosta Daily Times and editor of The Tifton Gazette.