Love in the Peanut Gallery

 

 

Freddie was holding the podium at the Diner yesterday, practically setting up the proverbial soapbox, you’d think he was running for Congress, nothing new there, not for us citizens of the sectarian South End. New England has its town meetings — we have breakfasts at the Diner. Sheila, the current owner, tolerates it for awhile, but if newcomers are in attendance, she limits floor time for speeches. To NO time…. Business, after all, is business, and Freddie can give his stump speeches down at the Pilot House Lounge where alcohol fuels the debates and the debates fuel alcohol consumption. Sheila’s selling coffee and omeletes without the salsa of politics.

“What ABOUT it, Sheila?” Fred hollers across the formica tabletops, the tables about half full this late in the morning. The Hispanics have come and gone — they have work to do and Fred’s filling his retirement years with coffee refills apparently. “You gonna feel okay serving gays? You got that sign that says you have the right to refuse service to anyone, how about the government telling you you got to serve criminals and perverts and terrorists? How about no shoes, no shirt, no morals, hey?”

Al, over on Table 4, spoons his 4th pack of sugar into his coffee and asks, “What’s next, Fred? No blacks? You gonna brink back a Colored water fountain again for gays? “

“It’s about freedom, Al. Religious freedom. The Bible says men on men, well, that’s why we got a Hell, know what I mean?” Al knows very well what he means and decides the debate isn’t worth ruining breakfast, which Anita serves up right then. He throws a hand up in dismissal and digs into his biscuits and gravy.

“Whadday think, Sheila?” Fred persists. “You okay with the government forcing patrons down your throat?”

“Freddie,” Sheila says, laughing, “you are SO 1950’s. Ike is dead. The Cold War is over. Women can vote. And maybe you never noticed, but plenty of gays eat here. You just never can tell, can you?”

Fred took a slow look around the Diner. When his gaze settled on me, I nodded and blew him a kiss. I figure Fred needs all the love he can get ….

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3 Responses to “Love in the Peanut Gallery”

  1. Rick Says:

    Fred does make a compelling argument for the Diner’s “We reserve the right” policy. One of these days Sheila may have to take him up on his suggestion that she use it, in the interest of providing a proper, decent atmosphere for her customers.

    When that happens, Fred might be the only one in the place surprised at who’s civil breakfast rights got violated.

  2. skeeter Says:

    Trust me, there’s more than one Fred down at the Diner. And Sheila needs their bizness, bigoted or not….

  3. Rick Says:

    Can’t fault the poor girl from trying to balance the books. Maybe she could just take down the old “We reserve the right…” sign and update it with one that reads, “Caution: May Contain Nuts.”

    That should work for everyone.

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