OK. I’m going to write something flip and throw in the morning blues song right here to keep it company.
I figure if you don’t like the song maybe you’ll like the story. Likewise, if you don’t like the story, maybe you’ll like the song.
To complete the possible combinations, if you don’t like the song or the story, well then, tough luck, buddy. Nobody is forcing you to read or listen. As our good friend Kurt Vonnegutt used to say, “I didn’t ask to be born anyway”.
The fourth and last combination (thank goodness there are only four) is that you like the story and the song: that the morning blues/morning story idea is a terrific combination (kind of like the two eggs, two pancakes, and a good cup of coffee combo at your favorite diner)
And speaking of your favorite diner, here’s a morning story. (what a segue!)
Joe Pagnalio sat at the Starbucks and regarded the scene in front of him. Flat-faced youths of all ethnicities sat around the wood-panelled room, all with their eyes fixed on some little screen. Busy they were. Fingers drumming, dancing across their keyboards. Off to the side, one older gent was reading the newspaper. A string of youths and middle-aged-coffee-drinkers waited quietly on a slow-moving line across the room.
“People wait so damn long for a damn cup of coffee,” mused Joe in his mind. “All my life,” he said to himself, “I been drinking coffee like this. You know, sitting in a restaurant. A diner, a cafe. Drinking a coffee. Sometimes with breakfast. Sometimes just a coffee.”
Joe remembered sitting in a restaurant booth in Los Angeles a number of years ago. He had ordered the #4: two eggs, two pancakes, and coffee. $2.95. It was a good deal. That’s why Joe always enjoyed the specials at Norm’s. You got a decent deal at Norm’s. They were good on pancakes, they made the eggs well. How could you go wrong?”
Joe Pagnalio sat at the Starbucks, sipped his cappuccino, and finally returned to the present here and now. Ahh the coffee was good. “And it was quite clever,” Joe continued in his musings, “quite clever of me to throw in that piece about the eggs-pancake combo. It’s what you’d call a segue”
“That ain’t nothin,” barked his friend Carmine, walking over and sitting at the wooden table with his old buddy Joe P., “That ain’t nothin’, Joey,” said Carmine as he pulled up a chair. “First they make you wait in line like a dog. And then they……”
“Yeah, I know,” said Joe. “That’s how it is nowadays.”