TruckSuds: a truckin’ soap opera
Hey, everbody. Short of time today, but wanted to share somethin’ that happened last Monday. You know my wife, Nadine, is a mite feisty at times. If she suddenly got reincarnatated, she’d be the chihuahua challenging a St. Bernard. That’s jus’ her nature.
Remember when Frank, the Bay State trucker, used his bull whip an’ grabbed the gun outta the grimy paw of one of them bikers … well, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of Nadine if she’s got a dishtowel in her hand. (I could tell you a lot of stories about that.) (But I won’t.)
Well, anyways, this trucker came into Mamie’s an’ sat in Nadine’s section at the counter. He looked as mad as a boiled owl, but that didn’t bother Nadine none. She just got his order an’ poured his cola an’ chirped right along.
His order got done fast an’ Nadine set it in front of him. He took about five bites an’ laid his fork down an’ snarled, “I can’t eat this. First of all, I ast for lamb chops. These mutton chops are old enough to vote.”
Nadine raised her eyebrows, an’ politely ast him if he wanted somethin’ else?
He glared around the café an’ kept on. “The mashed potatoes is cold an’ the string beans are jus’ that – all strings.” He was bein’ plain contrary.
“What would you like instead, sir?” Nadine ast him sweetly. When she says ‘sir,’ you better watch it.
“Somethin’ fit to eat!”
Nadine leaned on the counter in front of him. “I’d recommend the ‘Death by Double Cheeseburger’, with a side of sweet tater fries an’ a triple-thick mango-strawberry milkshake.”
“Whatever. Make it quick; I got a delivery deadline to meet. Hope the cook can move faster than you do at your age.”
Well, the kitchen crew had heard what was goin’ on, of course, an’ they got that order out quicker than you could blink. Then Nadine said, “If you got a delivery to make, let me make this a take-out for you.”
I knew what was comin’, so I ran down to the end of the counter an’ held open a paper bag. Nadine wrapped his huge cheeseburger in heavy-duty paper an’ then set it on the counter. She picked up a dishtowel and whap! Sent that burger all the way down four feet of counter into the bag I was holdin’. Then she put a top on the cardboard boat of sweet tater fries. Whap! The fries went down the same length of counter with one blow an’ into the sack. Packets of ketchup an’ salt an’ pepper followed, one whap at a time. Now the grouch was lookin’ a little nervous. But Nadine jus’ put a top on the milkshake an’ told him, “You’d better carry your milkshake.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, an’ got up quick. “Thank you for the take-out.” He practically ran over to the cashier.
“Don’t forget my tip!” she hollered, as he paid for his meal.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said under his breath, an’ handed Tiff at the register a five-dollar bill. “Where’d she learn that? Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show?”
Tiff looked at him straight-faced. “Who do you think taught Indiana Jones to handle a whip?”
Bet he don’t come back here in a bad mood agin. Well, catch you next time, everbody. Stay safe an’ drop by Mamie’s when you can. This here was a report from Miles.