A dear friend of mine and I were sitting in a small little old diner in the pine scentedspledour of New England when I decided to step out for a twig. As I sat on the steps there, a little crotechty old lady exited a car, two obese white haired neices in tow.
Despite the age differences the nieces were ambling along behind and the grouchy little old woman with crazy white hair became confused about which door to enter; the historic one or the one to the actual restaurant. Upon answering her question she said , " Oh , good! Do you know what they have on special today ? " I replied ( for I have a photographic memory and had read the menu) that pot roast was their special of the day. Rubbing her hands together and limping closer she said," Oh good!How much ? " I smiled at her frugality and replied " 13.95". Instantly her age creased brow creased even further then thought imaginiable and she exclaimed," I'm not having that damned shit then...too damned much."
As I often do I bit my inner cheek to keep from cacking outloud, half out of the hilarity of it and half out of nervous laughter which has always plagued me. Across the street blessedly A rustic cemetary then caught my attention , with bushes cut to spell the words PRAY FOR US ,rather ominously.
Back in the restaurant I told my friend the tale of the little old woman and after a good laugh he told me that cemetary and its bushes had terrified him as a child, him thinking the dead were using this foliage as a means to call out for help from the grave. I found that sweet, endearing and felt that way then even at my grown age.
All in all Labor Day was rather splendid,I can't recall having had a better time in recent years. I even belive all the extra Nuru gel that worked its way into my long hair had a healing effect on it and now I am home, it is the most lustrous thing on me!