hen I was working, we’d walk over to Juniors on Sunday mornings to have our omelets. And being readers, we’d settle into that crowded, muggy background and prop open our books and read. The waitress (who was used to this bookworm way of breakfast) would keep the ice-teas filled and bring us the check when we closed our books.
Once I retired, we shifted to Thursday. Now seating was always available, the mood was slower and more casual. There wasn’t the Churchie rush at 11pm that packed the joint. We’d sit by the huge plate glass window, look out on a typical American street, and enjoy our meals and books.
So now we’re in the middle of a politicized and out-of-control pandemic. We’re such a plague pit, the world is closing their doors to us. It’s frightening and disturbing times.
And Juniors is still closed.
Rode the bike past the other day and looked if there was any sort of announcement on the door. Nothing. Through the glass, the shady interior shows tables and chairs in pre-distancing days, everything silent and dark. I’m not sure if they’ve closed already or are just in some sort of economic hibernation. All I know is that with Juniors (and all our other eateries) shut down, my reading has gone to shit. I only read at lunch, maybe for a half-hour. My projects around me are growing in complexity (I’m making software to give me travel times about our solar system given various engine burn strengths and distances) (and the layout) (and contributing on a coding base) (and bike riding). Time is shorter than ever before.
And boy, I do miss those Omelets.
p.s. We did notice the other night that they were working on the interior. Maybe making it C-19-friendly? Dunno. But in uncertainty, there is hope!