Random Writing #1

"A mile a minute." My mom always said when talking about the inner workings of my mind. Oh, what a frightening place that is, my mind that is, not my mother; well maybe my mother too. Even as I walk into this quaint diner on the corner of first and third, I can't help but wonder what the fascination was with trolley car diners in the 50's. Why build your business inside a gigantic steel twinkie? Also, why the hell must every diner contain the three essential components? Component numero uno, a cacophony of dishes. Is Hitler's long lost son pissed and hellbent on revenge in the back washing your coffe cup?
Shit, are my keys ok? What do you mean are your keys ok? Are they dangling over a fire pit being circled by magma eating lava sharks? Of course they're ok, they're in your car where you left them, locked inside. Damn.
Anyway, diner component number two, Brenda, the midde age single mother whose trying to quit smoking and having hell of a time remembering to refill your coffee. But who could blame her? She's trying to buy her spoiled son an XBox with tips alone, and as of right now, my cup is bone dry and her son is on his way to spending his free time with one of those R.L. Stine Goosebumps books, bored out of his mind.
There she goes! "Miss, coffee please!" She didn't hear me. Damn you Hitler's son in the back.
Number three, the food. Between burnt toast, a puddle of grease comparable to a great lake, syrup containers God only knows who has licked, those stringy hashbrowns with no flavor, and...
Here she comes, here she comes. "Miss, very thirsty, coffee please!" Gone.
... and no Goddamn coffe!