深夜客栈

TheDineratMidnight-深夜客栈

I＇vebeeninlotsofdiners,andthey＇vealwaysseemedtobewarm,busy,friendly,happyplaces.That＇swhy,onarecentMondaynight,Istoppedinadinerforacupofcoffee.Iwasreturninghomeafteranalldaycartripandneededsomethingtohelpmemakethelastforty-fivemiles.Adineratmidnight,however,wasnottheplaceIhadexpected.Itwasdiffhrent,andlonely.

nthesurfaceoftherain-slickparkinglot.Onlyahalfdozencarsandabatteredpickupwerescatteredaroundthelot.Anemptypapercoffeecupmadeahollowscrapingsoundasitrolledinsmallcirclesononecementstepclosetothedinerentrance.Ipulledhardatthebalkyglassdoor,andithangedshutbehindme.

ktobackintheirorangevinylupholstery.Oneachspeckledbeige-and-goldt@bleweretheusualaccessories.Thekitchenhidmysteriouslybehindtwoswingingmetaldoorswithroundwindows.Iglancedthroughthesewindowsbutcouldseeonlyaparttothelarge,apparentlydesertedcookingarea.Facingthekitchendoorswasthecounter.IapproachedthelengthofFormicaandslidontooneofthecrackedvinylseatsboltedinsoldierlikestraightlinesinfrontofit.

everalfeetapart,staringwearilyintocupsofcoffeeandsmokingcigarettes.Theirfacessproutedwhatlookedlikedaylongstubblesofheard.Ifiguredtheywereprobablyshiftworkerswho,forsomereason,didn＇twanttogohome.Threestoolsdownfr0mtheworkers,Ispottedathinyoungmanwithamopofblack,curlyhair.HewasdressedinbrownLevicordswithacheckedwesternstyleshirtunbuttonedattheneck.HeworeablankexpressionashepickedataplateoflimpFrenchfries.Iwonderedifhehadjustreturnedfr0madisappointingdate.Attheoneoccupiedboothwasanfiddle-agedco

uple.Theyhadn＇tgottenanyfoodyet.Hewasstaringoffintospace,ldlytappinghisspoonagainstthetable,whileshedrewaimlessparallellinesonherpapernapkinwithabentdinerfolk.Neithersaidawordtotheother.

Finally,afired-lookingwaitressapproachedmewithherthickorderpad.Iorderedthecoffee,butIwantedtodrinkitfastandgetoutofthere.Mycar,andthesolitarymilesaheadofme,wouldbelonely.Buttheywouldn＇tbeasl