As I drove along the lonely stretch of route 152 somewhere west of Cordell, Oklahoma, I noticed a new peculiar sound coming from my car. New sounds are always a concern when you drive a vehicle that is well past its prime. A few miles later things got worse. The glow of the bright red idiot warning light filled the dashboard instrument panel. I knew from previous sad experiences that by the time those lights came on the situation was usually past the warning stage. I drove on hoping to make it to the next small town before the car gave out. I did not relish the idea of being stranded on the side of that quiet nearly deserted back road somewhere between 'nowheresville' and 'you-can't-get-there-from-heresville'.
As I pushed on, I reflected on how I had come to be in my current predicament. The last couple years had been a string of disasters. Starting with my divorce right through losing my job. Seven long months of unemployment had left me heavily in debt and depressed. Finally things were looking up! I had landed a good job in New Mexico. Prior to this trip, I had only spent a brief time on vacation in the Southwest. Having spent my entire adult life climbing the ladder of success in the great cities of the American Northeast, I knew little of life in the beautiful yet daunting landscape of New Mexico. I knew this move was exactly what I needed, a whole new life, a new environment and new friends and associates, a place where I could bury my past and begin to enjoy a new life.
So, I put the relocation allowance money in the bank to keep my creditors at bay a few more weeks, loaded the few things I could not live without into my old clunker and hit the road. Everything I had of monetary value remained in my old house with my ex-wife. Neither her nor my two daughters had much use for anything other then my checkbook, so my moving across the continent was of little concern to them.
I had a couple weeks before I was due at the new job, so I choose to avoid the interstates. I hated those boring high-speed trips and besides I was not sure my car could handle a 2000-mile high-speed cross-country run. I stuck to the mostly forgotten US Highways and state roads that provide a bucolic trip, albeit at a slower pace. The time to reflect and regroup was doing me a great deal of good.
A loud bang and sudden spewing of smoke from under my hood startled me from my reflections on life. My car was now struggling and lurching along the road. The noise was beginning to sound like a death rattle. To my relief I passed a sign announcing that there was a service station and dinner two miles ahead. As I coaxed the dying machine along, I hoped to find the facility opened and not boarded up and abandoned like so many small roadside establishments. I managed to get the car to limp almost the whole two miles. It died a few feet from Billy's Garage and Gas. Billy and his son helped me push my piece-of-shit the rest of the way.
Billy didn't look too confident my old car was ever going to leave Oklahoma. Looking Around, I could see that it wouldn't be the first car that had been left at Billy's. The lot out back was littered with once proud machines rusting in the Oklahoma sun. Well setting sun was more like it. It was nearly evening and Billy promised that he would take a look at the car first thing in the morning. I thanked him and walked to the curb. I looked up and down the empty road wondering what I could find to do until Billy either fixed my car or pronounced it deceased. There were a couple dozen or so buildings grouped together in what I guess one could call a town. Several of them were boarded up and falling down, victims of the Interstate. Most were private homes that had seen much better days. The only other commercial establishment still in business in the town sat across the road from Billy's.
Sal's Sooner Café had clearly seen better days. The half lit neon sign promised both 'good eats' and 'home cooking.' I expected neither as I slowly made my way across the road. Wasn't like I had my choice of fine restaurants. Out back of the diner I could see a row of rather ramshackle cabins that made the Bate's Motel look like the Ritz. I closed my eyes and imagined a bright well-kept landscape with new tourist cabins ringing the charming country diner. The lot was filled with shiny 1950's era automobiles and the air rang with the happy sounds of family's on summer vacations. Returning to the here and now, I sighed aloud as I realized that either one of the dilapidated cabin's or the back seat of one of Billy's junkers would be my room for the night. My own back seat could scarcely accommodate a small child as it was crammed full of the accumulated possessions of my life.
I stepped through the front door of the diner and immediately felt a warmth that was surprising given the appearance of the exterior of Sal's. The small cozy dining room was sparklingly clean. It was obviously recently painted in bright cheery colors. Real watercolor paintings hung on the walls. Each of the tables was covered with a hand-stitched flowered tablecloth. They were all set as if waiting for the evening rush, which no doubt would never come. Except for an elderly couple sitting in a booth, the place was deserted. I surmised that they were residents of one of the nearby houses as there were no cars in Sal's lot.
The gentlemen looked up and smiled at me, "The girl will be back in a minute, mister. She went to fetch something from the cellar."
I thanked him and took a seat at the counter that ran along the back o the dinning room. I felt a chill of sadness as I thought of the fate of Sal's and all the other businesses like it. Here in this bright cheery room thousands of people had once enjoyed good wholesome food at reasonable fair prices. Now it sat like the last dinosaur, perhaps staving off extinction only through the love of its owner. Certainly, only the meagerest of incomes could be made from the small flow of traffic that passed by these days. Sal's was a victim of the march of progress. It was another part of the terrible price we were paying for the false pleasures of the fast paced world we created.
Just as my melancholy thoughts of things remembered and lost were going to cause tears to run down my cheeks, the kitchen door swung open. I assumed the thirty-something woman that burst through it was the girl the man at the booth had mentioned. She wore a waitress uniform the likes of which I hadn't seen since I was a kid and my dad took me for a burger and a shake at the Woolworth's lunch counter. It was powder blue with a crisp, neat, starched, white apron, the cleanliness of which suggested she had not served many patrons that day. The buttons of the blouse portion of the uniform seemed strained to their limit holding in her more then ample breasts. A brief picture flashed in my head of them popping and her large tits falling out before me in all their glory. I snapped out of my daydream when she spoke.
"I am sorry hun, had no idea you were here. We don't get many travelers in this time of year!"
Her smile was somehow intoxicating. I felt genuine warmth and an incredible sensuality radiate from her. The true beauty of her flaming tresses was hidden by the hairnet that held it piled on her head. I explained about my car and inquired about the availability of the cabins out back.
"Now, hun, let's get some food in you. We can figure out where you gonna sleep shortly," she said in reply as she filled my coffee cup and handed me a menu.
I just smiled at her and began to peruse the menu. I had no idea how to respond to the sleeping arrangement comment. Nor, did I have the heart to tell her I didn't drink coffee after seeing her sweet smile. She hurried over to the couple in the corner leaving me alone with the menu an unwanted cup of coffee. The waitress' infectious laughter caused me to turn toward the corner table. The old gentleman was clearly flirting with the much younger woman. The look on his wife's face almost screamed, 'you old fool!' The man paid no attention to his wife and went right on flirting. The waitress acted as if she genuinely enjoyed the old timers advances. If not for the old woman, an on-looker could easily imagine the waitress giving into the old guy's charm and giving him a thrill that he clearly had not had in many years.
Watching this exchange I saw clearly her unusual sweet sensual quality. She was not the type of woman that men would immediately fall to their knees over. However, she had a seductive, sexual quality that I could not quite put my finger on. Somehow, I knew she would be amazing in the bedroom or any other room if one could find the key to open her passions. I tried to push the thoughts of her naked body writhing under me away, before the twinge in my loins bore fruit and I found myself in an embarrassing condition. When she saw I was looking in her direction, she handed the couple their check and walked back toward the counter. Despite myself, I stared transfixed as she made her away across the small dining room.
"You ready to order, er is there something wrong with the coffee, sugar? You hardly touched it," she said in a tone that conveyed her concern as she came around the counter.
"Oh um, actually, I don't drink coffee, ma'am. Any chance you have a Pepsi back there somewhere?"
"Sorry hun, Pepsi coming up! Don't think I have ever known a man didn't drink coffee!"
She opened the antique cooler behind her and pulled out a Pepsi in a real glass bottle. I wondered how long it had been there waiting for me to show up to order it. She popped the top off the bottle and sat it in front of me along with a tall glass of ice. I smiled at her as I lifted the bottle to my lips. The cold glass felt familiar, like and old friend, against my lips. The syrupy, sweet, brown liquid burned as always as it flowed down my throat. As I returned the bottle to the counter, I realized the waitress was watching me as if studying me to see what the stranger in town was all about.
