(no subject)
Even though I travel fairly regularly, I only get back to my hometown of Winnipeg every few years. When I do, I'm reminded of all the things I love and hate about the 'Peg. One of the things I love is the way the people are almost totally without pretense. Folks from the Canadian prairies and the US midwest have a reputation for being straightforward to the point of being blunt, and they're like that here of course, but its more than that. I've never been anywhere where people fall into conversation with complete strangers as if they've known them all their lives, and it happens with most of the people you run into here. There's an informal intimacy that is very distinctive and I always forget how much I've missed it until I come back for one of my infrequent visits. However, all good things can be ruined if taken too far. Case in point: lunch at Salisbury House (a local diner-cum-family restaurant chain found throughout the city). The old-time waitresses, ladies in their 40's, 50's and 60's, tend to be friendly, unpolished (very), and efficient, but the one serving us left me shaking my head in wonder. Dad ordered a bacon-and-egg breakfast, and when it came it only had one egg (should have been two). We asked the waitress about it and she shook her head, gave my Dad a hearty pat on the shoulder, and with an "I got it, buddy," headed for the kitchen. So far, so good, right?
A few minutes later she returned, plate in hand. Instead of putting it down on the table, she leaned over, reached across in front of Dad, and picked up the knife off the side of his plate (this is the one he was eating with, complete with sticky egg yolk and bread crumbs on the blade) and used it to scrape the fresh egg from its plate onto his existing one. Then without a word, she replaced the knife on the side of his plate and walked off without a word. All I could thing was, "I've never seen that." I've seen a lot, but nope, nothing like that.
Ugh...this sounds like some storylet written for a folksy column in some local paper, but I need to start writing something, anything, so too bad!
A few minutes later she returned, plate in hand. Instead of putting it down on the table, she leaned over, reached across in front of Dad, and picked up the knife off the side of his plate (this is the one he was eating with, complete with sticky egg yolk and bread crumbs on the blade) and used it to scrape the fresh egg from its plate onto his existing one. Then without a word, she replaced the knife on the side of his plate and walked off without a word. All I could thing was, "I've never seen that." I've seen a lot, but nope, nothing like that.
Ugh...this sounds like some storylet written for a folksy column in some local paper, but I need to start writing something, anything, so too bad!