Dropped Dusan off at the airport for the 6:25am flight, got a new client while there and came to the 4B before it closes for good on Sunday. Coconut cream pies, orange bar stools, coffee and little non-dairy creamers in a bowl. They must be kept refrigerated or I’d carry them around for Deon. These days, however, the car is nicely refrigerated. -3 degrees on the way to the airport and a good foot of snow.
“The Counter of Knowledge”, where someone knows the answer. Bob’s working on a ’63 Ford, but he sold the Chevelle to a guy in Livingston. Waitresses are bummed but still cheerful. Ranchers, bank guys, regulars, a tall, grey-haired man in Lycra, a biker jacket and leather wraps around long side braids. “Dave, can I borrow your phone?” “Why, do you want to call someone who gives a shit?” Waitresses tease too, give everyone the hard time that they love to get. Guys say goodbye to each other, talk about the guy who’s on vacation and will come back to find this all gone. Corned beef hash that’s fresh-made, Folger’s coffee, plates shaped like skillets. It gets light out, more couples coming in. Someone says that Appleby’s is gone, and that they’ve heard that both Fuddruckers and Spanish Peaks may go as well. Spanish Peaks! I’d be sorry.
It’s light out and the snow’s stopped. Time to take the puppies home and say goodbye to the 4B.