By Carl McIntyre
It is a fine 45ºF and clear morning at the old family farmstead here in Shelby County, Alabama. Alabama you ask? Look again at just who’s writing this little yarn. But, the yarn deals with my real home, the West 7th Street neighborhood of St. Paul, MN, where the weather is a little more like winter (and WHY I am really at my parents’ old farm, now owned by brother Harley), and the antics of a bunch of old guys at the fictional Joe’s Café & Coffee.
Andy Harold, a retired mail carrier, and Stan Schmidlin, recently retired from 3M Company out there in Maplewood along I94, were, as usual, seated by the window, and Charlie Johnson was seated next to me at the counter, Charlie is a blacksmith by trade, but augments his income by working an early shift as a janitor. Joe Rusicka is of course, behind the counter. “Boomer’s car just pulled up, I thought you said he wouldn’t be here this morning.”
“He told me he was too busy to stop.”
Charlie turned to look out the window. “It ain’t Boomer in that car! It’s…”
Just then the door opened and a young woman of my acquaintance came through followed closely by another young woman. I was just about to warn Charlie NOT to open his mouth…”Well—hello there, sugar…”
But before he could finish…“Shut your mouth you no-account degenerate! Just WHO do you think you are? This girl don’t need no come-on from a fat old man!”
That voice belonged to Colinda Washingon McIntyre, my lovely wife—I couldn’t help myself… “Ain’t you just the sweetest thang, you are lookin’ fine!”
Before Collie could reply, the young woman said, “Hi Mac, nice to see you this morning. Coffee please Josef.”
“Comin’ right up, Ms Sarah.”
“Why thank you, Mr. McIntyre,” Collie said, “you do have a golden tongue.”
Charlie wisely remained quiet while Sarah and Collie talked of their upcoming adventure with Ines on Lake Superior, and how much they were looking forward to whatever Ines had planned. They finished their coffee, and left the café.
“Can’t you control your rib? I didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
“You are such a pig, Charlie.”
Tomorrow—Charlie opens his mouth again—this time when he meets Ines.
He has no idea!