The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Techno Tom was morosely stirring half a pint of sugar into his coffee, no doubt figuring the sugar blast would quadruple the jolt from the Diner’s caffeine.  Freddie Fairlane, one table over with the other Flatheads, the vintage car guyz, watched for awhile then moseyed over to sit at Tom’s table.  “You seem a little down in the mouth, amigo,” he said.  “Lose your best friend?”

Techno didn’t even look up, just kept stirring that coffee he was apparently never going to drink, maybe just let it congeal to a cold pudding.  “I didn’t lose my best friend, Fred, but I’m losing my shirt … and maybe my marriage too.”  Freddie grabbed his plate of half eaten heart attack, chicken fried steak, greasy potatoes, side of four eggs and made himself at home beside Tom.  He wolfed down a couple forkfuls, then, mouth crammed with cholesterol, asked him what the hell he was talking about.

“I put most of my retirement funds into bitcoin, that’s what I’m talking about.  Seemed like a sure bet at the time … not so much now.”  Fred swilled his coffee, took another shovel load of breakfast, then asked what was bitcoin.  Techno Tom put his head on the table next to his undrunk coffee cup and made a whimpering noise that attracted attention from most of the Flatheads, men who had known defeat themselves at the hands of rusted bolts and impossible to diagnose electrical problems, defeats they mostly kept locked inside their garages or simply expurgated with howls of rage out of hearing from their fellow enthusiasts.  Misery may love company but most of us aren’t looking for an invitation.

Fred had quit chewing his chicken fried steak.  The spectacle of his seating companion head down on the formica table top made eating, even for Freddie, an unhelpful remedy for whatever problem Tom was unable to cope with.  He looked back at the table of his automotive pals who were all staring at the strange tableau before them, one that even in the notoriously eclectic Diner seemed a bit out of place during a quiet breakfast.  Fred put down his fork and raised an eyebrow to the onlookers before shrugging helplessly.  “Any of you guys know what a bitcoin is?”  Tom, without lifting his head, quietly groaned.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, July 17th, 2022 at 3:06 pm and is filed under rantings and ravings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.