#13 Coffee is the Best Medicine...
August 22, 2005
...The Strange Happenings in a Coffee Shop
(You may start reading at any point in the story.
It isn't complicated! This is Part 13.)
"Oh no! Another one to break in..." Rose murmured over my shoulder.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The last one just retired. He didn't give us any trouble. Now I've got this new guy to contend with."
"I see," I replied. Although I really didn't. The coffee shop was filthy, a health violation waiting to happen. How in the heck could Rose neutralize the actions of this inspector?
I'd been to many crappy restaurants in my day. Some I would never return to; some I ignored the dirt because the food was excellent. A person will make sacrifices for an excellent medium rare steak or a perfectly done baked potato; but the coffee shop...well, the java was perfect; but otherwise there wasn't much good I could say about the place. Except for the people--I'd become truly fond of the people--Rose, Brenda, Butch, and Alfred. I supposed my loyalty to them would make me work hard to keep this cafe open.
To my surprise, I spied Brenda already getting to work. She was wrapping her arm around the inspector's and walking him to a table,
"Now what would a handsome man like yourself be looking to have at our place today?" she asked. Butch dashed over and pulled out a chair for the man.
That fellow seated himself like a man considered royalty. "You'll not flatter me or distract my attentions from the violations in this place," he stated.
"This one is going to require the big guns," Rose murmured from her perch next to me. I watched as she reached under the counter for a special can of coffee. A fragrant cinnamon aroma woke up my olfactory senses as I watched her open the can, measure the coffee, and start the pot dripping. With one hand she undid her top two buttons while with the other she reached in the refrigerator to the back, bringing out a package of bacon. I recognized the wrapper as some of the best stuff, not the usual daily fare with lots of fat and little meat. The kitchen transformed to a whirlwind of bacon cooking, coffee brewing, eggs being scrambled next to a griddle full of pancakes and home fries.
I felt jealous of the inspector, breakfast being my favorite meal which I find enjoyable any time of day. But this food was not being cooked up for me. It was being prepared for the health inspector. Before long, Rose appeared at his table carrying a huge tray with the magnificent food.
She smiled at the fellow making eye contact while laying the array of dishes before him. When the tray was empty, she sat at his table, crossing her hands and smiling.
"I hope you like the food," she said. "Eat hardy. There's plenty more where that came from."
To be Continued
Copyright 2005 JO Janoski
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