Friday, February 3, 2017

My name is Wayne...John Wayne...

I've mentioned in the past about a community just north of ours where the citizens ride in Lexus chariots and truly believe their human waste hath no odor. They shun those who don't live in their community yet would be aghast if one of us decided to actually move in next door to become one of them. They rarely consider anything outside their gates worth the effort to leave their boundaries save an occasional Cowboys football game or a fund raising event worthy of their attendance. There is an exception to all of this and that is the Bacon's Restaurant located in my hometown of Hurst. There is no better place to go for breakfast and the crowds are typically large with waits up to 45 minutes. Sundays are always the worst. Seems like those who don't attend church like to sit at the Bacon's tables and sip coffee while reading the morning paper. Those who do go to church show up en masse (catch the pun?) right after the last "amen".

Debbie and I like to go to Bacon's during the week. The crowd isn't as bad and the wait is typically ten minutes or so at worst. Yesterday while waiting to be seated, one of those from north of us came in, looked around, and yelled "Crap! Is it Sunday?" All of us waiting chose to ignore the man. He rudely addressed the waitress and advised her he was in a hurry and needed to be seated. After a few minutes he yelled out to the staff that he was "STILL WAITING". At this, I got up from my seat, walked up to the man and said, "Excuse me sir but we are all waiting. Why don't you have a seat and wait your turn." He looked me up and down, knocked my hat off my head and asked if me and what army were going to make him sit down. I very calmly tossed my cane into the air, caught it at the tip and made aim. He threw his hands over his head to protect himself from the coming if I would actually hit him on the head with my cane of all things...absolutely not! I swung my cane at a low arc as hard as I could and slammed it against his shins. He cried out and bent over to grab his shins. When he did this I hit him over the head with the handle of my cane sending him sprawling to the floor. Then I placed the cane tip to his neck and pressed down. I quietly suggested that since he was on the floor anyway he should pick up my hat, dust it off, and hand it to me in his best imitation of a gentleman. He picked up my hat, dusted it off, and then.....

Well, that's when they called our name for a table so the daydream ended.

With thanks and apologies to my cousin, Mike Cooper, who actually went to Bacon's and told me about the incident.

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