Monday, April 30, 2007
Is "Before" Your "After?"
Maybe there is truth in advertising.
I visited The Moon, a diner here in town to grab a shake to answer Gina's cravings, induced by my in vetro nephew. I edged my way past the greeting cards, the tchotchkies--ceramic pigs, an Elvis dinner set, you get the idea-- and up to the counter.
After the owner's introduction, which was a cross between a tour of the Grand Coolie Dam and Disney's Jungle Cruise, I ordered two shakes, to-go, and moved toward an out- of- the- way table. I began to read my Egyptian History book, as was my practice at the time, and waited.
Soon, I was surprised by the entrance of the ultimate poster- child- for- heart- disease, shuffling past me from the back. He paused beside me. "I'm sorry, did I take your seat, sir?"
"No--" catching his breath, "--I'm not sitting down." At this point I felt a little uncomfortable, realizing that his pause had nothing to do with my table, it was the pause he took every four or five steps to catch his breath as he worked his way to the kitchen, to fix himself a fried ham and cheese and a shake before he started his shift as chef.
As I sat there, I looked at him and realized that he looked like one of those "before" pictures in the Super Metabo- Skinny Juice commercials and I wondered, what did his "before" picture look like? And would he have ever eaten here, let alone taken the job, if he could have seen the after.
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I visited The Moon, a diner here in town to grab a shake to answer Gina's cravings, induced by my in vetro nephew. I edged my way past the greeting cards, the tchotchkies--ceramic pigs, an Elvis dinner set, you get the idea-- and up to the counter.
After the owner's introduction, which was a cross between a tour of the Grand Coolie Dam and Disney's Jungle Cruise, I ordered two shakes, to-go, and moved toward an out- of- the- way table. I began to read my Egyptian History book, as was my practice at the time, and waited.
Soon, I was surprised by the entrance of the ultimate poster- child- for- heart- disease, shuffling past me from the back. He paused beside me. "I'm sorry, did I take your seat, sir?"
"No--" catching his breath, "--I'm not sitting down." At this point I felt a little uncomfortable, realizing that his pause had nothing to do with my table, it was the pause he took every four or five steps to catch his breath as he worked his way to the kitchen, to fix himself a fried ham and cheese and a shake before he started his shift as chef.
As I sat there, I looked at him and realized that he looked like one of those "before" pictures in the Super Metabo- Skinny Juice commercials and I wondered, what did his "before" picture look like? And would he have ever eaten here, let alone taken the job, if he could have seen the after.
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