Rhonda's Diner - Post #1

Time passes by in pots of coffee. I watch the niches of New York mix into one as they take refuge from the bitter chill within Rhonda’s Diner. The elderly Chinese man who sells fish down the block sits in silence with his wife, three men raise voices about investments a few booths away, a family of tourists pour over a guide to the “undiscovered corners of the city” and two giddy teenagers split a milkshake as their feet press against each other under the table.

I remember being that young and happy. The world seems so bright and you feel like the chromatic scenes in movies are yours to consume. I remember the way Richie used to promise me weekend adventures and a house full of books. Now, I share a 2 bedroom apartment with 5 roommates and have only a photo book of California and Rhonda's apron to call my own. 

I tap my fluorescent nails on the counter and wait for the coffee machine to beep.

I hear the door chime and I feel my eyes whip to see the person entering as if an invisible magnetic force pulled me in. The woman pulls off her heavy fur jacket and casts it aside on the nearest hook as she takes a seat in the booth. She stares out the window as if awaiting the presence of someone else, but the power and intelligence radiating from her body suggest that she was comfortable on her own. I am pulled out of my thoughts as I hear the coffee pot ding, and I smooth my apron, pick up the pot, and swiftly move towards her booth. 

I am taken aback as she makes eye contact and says thank you in a strong French accent, most people just push the mug towards me with their free hand and continue on with their conversations. I wanted to say more, her eyes told tales of adventures and wisdom, but instead I smile back and retreat behind the counter. She took out a tattered notebook clearly well loved, and made circles around the rim of the mug with her other pointer finger. I continue to the other booths, but my mind keeps wandering back to the woman at the booth.

Where had she been? Where was she going?

After about an hour of conversation with her thoughts, she places a few fresh bills on the booth and heads out with a quick nod in my direction. 

Oh how I aspire to join her on her path.