Tonight I had an hour to wait in a different part of town so I decided to treat myself to dinner. I saw a diner with lots of cars in the parking lot, and thought that might be a good choice. I did not note that the cars in the lot were mostly very big and more than slightly old.
The clientele, like their cars, were more than slightly old. I fit the demographic,except for the more than slightly old big car.
I am pretty sure that the menu hasn't changed in 40 years: iceberg salad, pork chops, chicken or ham, canned corn and rice pudding or ice cream. Just like mama used to make.
Sitting alone in the restaurant among the silver haired ladies and bald men, and the walkers, canes and portable oxygen, I felt pretty fortunate to be independent and mobile - and pretty smug about my small car and my life as a non-smoker.
I would have loved to have had a dining companion, and truthfully,some of the old bald guys looked pretty good, but I think that next time I will choose the restaurant with smaller cars in the lot, and dark greens on the menu.
3 hours ago