For Lenette

For Lenette

Big Ed of Big Ed’s drives a big Hummer now.
Down-home antique kitchen supplies hang over
serious conversations: it’s interracial in a downtown
southern redneck way. Walked by this place seven
years without stopping in. Eight waitresses smoke,
waiting for the lunch crowd. A forty-year-old with
tight braids down her T-shirt, bouncing horse-like
in the light that pushes between moving legs, and
customers who openly defy non-existent tobacco
ordinances too, but no one cares or notices except the
pen-pusher plonked in the corner. Braided lady
adjusts her chest by loosening her shirt from her
pants. Does it matter that some pretentious wanna-be
from the factory is more proud of his security badge
than a Cherokee warrior would be, returning from battle
victorious? Big Ed’s sign says, “no checks, no credit
cards,” hence the Hummer. What matters here is a
respite for the homeless. A five dollar warm up
in January, full of info, like “it’ll be fifteen minutes
before we start lunch, you want to wait?” Yep, he’ll
sit in a comfortable chair, pondering how to spend
street-hustled change for some time before deciding
what to eat. Gentle respect and hard work gain large
nods from the spirits floating in bedecked open rafters.

 

 

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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