This one was sent in to me @ asburyboardwalk.com: I'll assume it's true: Just
get down to
the last line. A Classic.
I am going to take you up west a few blocks to the corner of Asbury Ave and
Main Street
across from the fire station was the Asbury Diner. I worked there on and off
as a waitress
from 1969 to 1972 and always on the night shift which was from 10PM - 5 AM.
There
were many regulars each unique with their own stories to tell. Every night
person in the
area would stop by 'The Diner' sometime during the night.
I remember one regular who would come in anywhere between 2 and 4 in the
mornings.
He always seemed wasted to some degree and I wasn't sure if it were drugs
and/or
alcohol. He was always soft spoken and polite and more often than not would
come in
alone. A young boy, good looking, if you could look through the fog and see
him. His
speech always mumbled, slurred and soft with a crocked smile when he would be
gazing
at the menu, unable to articulate what it was that he wanted. But I knew what
it was, as he
had the same thing every time he came in like that. He wanted eggs fried
sunnyside up. I
have to say, I don't remember what else he ate with those eggs, but I remember
those
eggs. I would bring him his plate and sometimes he would eat, but most times
not. He
would be staring at his eggs with his head bobbing back and forth. I knew it
was time to
go in the kitchen and get a clean warm and wet dish towel. No sooner would I
come back
and yep...his face had fallen right flat in the middle of his untouched face,
His look was
one of confusion and embarrassment. My towel was ready as I washed his face
and his
hair that had streaks of yellow yolk on it while taking the plate away. I
would help him
stand, as he still looked lost...he would kind of point to his jean pocket and
I would go in
there and fetch the $1.37 cents that was needed to pay his check and he would
be on his
way. Sometimes when you have memories from years ago, you wonder what happened
to
some of these people. I have good news. That young man is doing well today,
but I have
no idea if he still likes his eggs sunnyside up.
I never minded waiting on his table and I was usually the one who did, as the
other
waitresses hated to not so much because of the mess but because he never tipped
a dime.
I must have waited on him a couple of hundred times. A tip back then for what
he had
would be anywhere from 15 cents to 25 cents.
So, today I am permanently disabled on SSD get my food from free food
pantries, get
meals on wheels and live in senior HUD housing. I am poor. I figure this guy
kind of
owes me $40.00. I know if he was not so wasted he would have tipped, he just
had some
poor judgment at those times. So, if anyone runs into Bruce Springsteen,
please ask him if
perhaps he might want to tip me now? I sure could use it. Thanks
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