Breakfast with Ivy

The store has been really busy this month. So busy in fact, Ivy has let me actually help her a little bit. It works well for me to work in the store because my construction stuff has slowed down.

I don’t have a current project at the mall, and the future owners of the house I have under construction have asked me to slow down with the house. Finishing the house is a little stressful for them, with the holidays. They don’t want to think about the house during the Christmas season.

Ivy and I went to breakfast a couple times last week to discuss my responsibilities. Those conversations were incredibly short. I realize that I really have no input to those conversation and I start thinking about the newspaper I have in my pocket.

Restaurants don’t have many newspapers any more. In the old days, you could hold the paper in front of your face and totally ignore the person you are sitting with. Now the newspaper is on your “smart” phone. If you try to avoid eye contact with “friend” by holding your phone in front of your eyes you look like a, well, moron. Can I say that?

Anyway, we are not going to talk about “smart” phones today. I going to talk about a simple trip to a breakfast restaurant.

Having been born in this town, I like to support local business. Local, small business is even better. Ivy and I were having breakfast a small local restaurant. Ivy and I have known one of the waitresses since Ivy and this girl were kids. The girls were close friends as children. You could ask Ivy about throwing rocks with this young girl and another friend. One rock was particularly interesting. The one that went through the window of a van as it was driving down the road. Sorry, I lost focus.

Ivy and I were having a nice time reading, talking and spend time with our friend. It was time to get to the store.

I paid for breakfast. Ivy started heading for the door. Ivy encountered two nice men that held both doors of the vestibule for her. She made it outside.

I have noticed over the years that some public seating is quite uncomfortable. I find stadium seating quite uncomfortable. The seat at most stadiums seem to be too short (or long) and press on the back of my legs in my “hamstring” region. Elaine thinks I need to eat more bananas and drink more water. I think I should not take advice from Elaine.

I noticed when I sat down in the restaurant the booth seat was broken. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. It was on of those seats that had been sat on many times by some really big people. It was the kind of seat where you sink down into the seat until you hit something hard and all of the padding surrounds your fanny. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

I mentioned Ivy made it outside. I didn’t fair so well. As I was crawling out of the booth, I thought, “Uh-oh, this isn’t good!” My hamstrings was starting to cramp. By the time I was out of the booth my leg was completely locked.

The two guys that had held the door for Ivy noticed we were together. They were going to hold the door for me. I stood there looking at them. I couldn’t move. They just waited. I finally decided I needed to go or they were going to stand there all day.

I started walking dragging my cramped leg. Behind me was a guy I’m guessing more than eighty years old walking with a cane. He was trying to pass me. I got to the door and thanked the guys for holding the door. At that exact moment my leg cramp released. Ivy asked me what took me so long.

I was walking normally. I wondered what the two door holders thought about me now walking normally. I told Ivy I heard the eighty year old guy tell me, “Get out of my way, Gramps.” He didn’t but he had to be thinking it.

Believe it or not Ivy thought my ordeal was funny. Kids!

I’m going to eat a banana and drink some water.

Our crazy lives!

Monner