Buffalo Gal

I assumed the virtuous path was to skip breakfast and attack my morning errands before I went to the gym. By 10:30 my digestive tract, already indignant from the strictures of the new diet, made it clear I had made a poor choice. Continuing on to the gym would result in more than the usual self-punishment.
No flour/ no sugar immediately erased all fast food options, but I remembered a cafe near FLETC that could probably deliver an omelet at this in-between hour.
Skin shiny and hair stringy from the morning heat, I pulled on my black Silver Linings tour cap to complete the nasty sweats and lumpy t-shirt ensemble. As I pulled up, I saw plenty of empty tables through the window and an absence of small children that could easily be frightened by my disheveled state. I grabbed my reading glasses and the Times, still in it's morning driveway bag, as my only fit company.
As I searched for the booth farthest from the straggling breakfast diners, I heard my name from a back booth.
A former business colleague, nattily attired and impeccably groomed, called me to his booth. I hadn't seen him in several years. His plate was empty, but he invited me to join him as he enjoyed his coffee.
I felt as if my worldly possessions were double-parked in a shoppping cart outside. The constrast between us turned the remaining heads. I placed the blue Times bag next to me as a subtle signal that even street urchins could subscribe.
But conversation came easily. Unlike the time we worked together, it was not centered on our jobs but ourselves and our worlds. My order came and somehow my plate emptied between the shared stories that easily tumbled over each other.
The meal grew much longer and certainly more nourishing than I could possibly have imagined. I gave him my new non-business card and made him promise to allow me to be his native guide when he finally makes a Western New York/ Niagara Falls journey.
I hit the treadmill sated and smiling. After an adult life of Palm Pilots and calendars with quarter hour increments, it's amazing what you can find in the open spaces.

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs

Buffalo Gal Judi Griggs I'm a communications professional, writer, cynic, mother, wife and royal pain. The order depends on the day. I returned to my hometown in November 2004 after a couple of decades of heat and hurricanes. I can polish pristine copy, but not here. This is my morning exercise -- 20-minute takes without a net or spellcheck. It's easier than sit ups for me. No guarantee what it will be for you. Clicking on the subscribe link will send you an email notice when each new entry is posted.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (0) Share on Facebook		2004-07-21 1:11 PM Accidental breakfast I assumed the virtuous path was to skip breakfast and attack my morning errands before I went to the gym. By 10:30 my digestive tract, already indignant from the strictures of the new diet, made it clear I had made a poor choice. Continuing on to the gym would result in more than the usual self-punishment. No flour/ no sugar immediately erased all fast food options, but I remembered a cafe near FLETC that could probably deliver an omelet at this in-between hour. Skin shiny and hair stringy from the morning heat, I pulled on my black Silver Linings tour cap to complete the nasty sweats and lumpy t-shirt ensemble. As I pulled up, I saw plenty of empty tables through the window and an absence of small children that could easily be frightened by my disheveled state. I grabbed my reading glasses and the Times, still in it's morning driveway bag, as my only fit company. As I searched for the booth farthest from the straggling breakfast diners, I heard my name from a back booth. A former business colleague, nattily attired and impeccably groomed, called me to his booth. I hadn't seen him in several years. His plate was empty, but he invited me to join him as he enjoyed his coffee. I felt as if my worldly possessions were double-parked in a shoppping cart outside. The constrast between us turned the remaining heads. I placed the blue Times bag next to me as a subtle signal that even street urchins could subscribe. But conversation came easily. Unlike the time we worked together, it was not centered on our jobs but ourselves and our worlds. My order came and somehow my plate emptied between the shared stories that easily tumbled over each other. The meal grew much longer and certainly more nourishing than I could possibly have imagined. I gave him my new non-business card and made him promise to allow me to be his native guide when he finally makes a Western New York/ Niagara Falls journey. I hit the treadmill sated and smiling. After an adult life of Palm Pilots and calendars with quarter hour increments, it's amazing what you can find in the open spaces. Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top