It was dark winter and the only light I could see was a diner, so I parked and went inside. At the counter was the only other patron, a gray man in a brown suit coat. He had a cane next to his stool, leaning against the counter, and he did not move when I entered. Steam rose from the mug over which he hunched and I could see only that he looked at the wall he faced. I could not see his eyes.
I took a booth between the door and the far wall, closer to the wall because it seemed warmer and better lit. The bench was old, looked to be at least twenty years, and it was orangish-yellow and its padding well worn. The dirt in the grain appeared almost as old as the bench, but the bench was clean, as was the table, which had a white plastic top, chipped on the edges and engraved in spots.
A newspaper lay by the window. It was a week old and the imperfect folds and a few fingerprints from smeared printing ink showed it had been read a few times. As I read the headline on the frontpage a waitress walked through the kitchen door and toward the booth when she spotted me.
"What can I get for you? Coffee to start?" she asked. Her apron was untied and it swayed from her neck when she moved.
"Yes, please. Black," I said. She started with one foot to the kitchen and turned back to me. She pointed to the newspaper and asked if I wanted this week's, it was in the back. I said no, I wasn't really reading this one.
"You're better off that way." She smiled. "Be right back with that." She turned.
"No rush," I said.
The waitress stopped in front of the man at the counter and pointed to the mug in his hands. The man nodded, placed the mug on the counter and his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned back, straightening. The waitress reached under the counter for a mug and placed it on the counter. She walked to the coffee machine and picked up a pot and returned to fill the man's mug. I could not see his face but I could see the waitress's and she smiled "You're welcome" with her eyes. The man resumed his position, hunched over the steam in his hands. The waitress swapped coffee pots, grabbed the second mug and walked toward me. She put the mug down on the table and paused before filling it. "You wanted regular, right?"
"Yes," I interrupted. She smiled and poured.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Naw, this is fine," I said. "Say, what's a pretty young woman like you doing out so late."
"I have to pay for school somehow," she said. "And I like this time of day. It's quiet. What about a balding man like you?"
I blushed and said I was heading home, visiting family here. She returned to the kitchen. I sipped the coffee but it was too hot so I put it down and picked up the newspaper. The frontpage story was about a new hardware store in town and the accompanying photo was of the mayor and the shop's owner at the grand opening. Between the covers were a few stories about townspeople, a letter to the editor about the American flag, a page of births and obituaries, and it was filled out with a few handmade ads.
I put the paper down and picked up my coffee, which had cooled off enough to drink. Out the window I could see the diner's reflection, and I looked at the man at the counter. The door to the kitchen opened and I turned toward it, away from the window. The waitress smiled to the man without looking at him and walked to the booth.
"Anything else for you?" she asked.
"No, thanks. I'm almost done with this. How much is the coffee?"
"Naw, don't worry about it. It's only one cup, don't worry about it."
"Naw..." I interrupted. "What are you studying?" I asked.
"I don't know yet. Something. I can't do this my whole life. I don't know. I don't know what I want to do."
I nodded and began to stand up from the booth. She moved back and started to the kitchen.
"Have a good night then," she said.
"You too," I said. She went through the door again.
I knew I would be home in the city soon, it was only a two hour drive, so I left a $50 on the table and left.