Overheard at The Trusty Trough

by tess

There’s a two-traffic-light town in Arizona (population according to 2000 census: 457) with exactly one bar (which doesn’t serve food) and exactly one restaurant (which doesn’t serve liquor). But you’re not allowed to call it a restaurant. If you do, the townspeople will inform you that it’s a café. I know that Parisians make distinctions between different kinds of eating establishments: cafés, bistros, brasseries. But I’ve never known Americans to be so adamant about restaurant codification. Especially in a place where (and I quote our real estate agent): “There aren’t many of us and we don’t do much. But nobody’s gonna tell us what we can or can’t do.” Perhaps I was corrected because I’m not one of the favored 457, an Outlander from the East. Or maybe everybody (all 457 of them) knows that it’s called a café and why on earth would you call it anything else?

Conversation One
Floyd (50-ish and trying to impress the waitress): I was thinking of opening a liquor store.
Darrell (40-something and trying to outdo his friend): Yeah, well I was thinking of opening a garage.
Catalina (having listened to variations of this same conversation for 30+ years): We don’t need either one of those. We already have a liquor store and a garage.

Conversation Two
Catalina: What can I get you folks?
Husband: I’ll have the meatloaf sandwich with slaw and she’ll have the grilled cheese.
Catalina: Fries with that grilled cheese?
Wife: Yes.
Husband: You want fries with that, mama?
Wife: Yes.
Husband: She’ll have fries with that.
Catalina: Anything to drink?
Husband: Coffee. You want coffee, mama?
Wife: Yes.
Husband: Two coffees.

Conversation Three
Darrell (into his cell phone): Yeah. (pause)
What? (pause)
Now just calm down. Who’d he hit? (pause)
Well, why’d he hit him? (pause)
Well, he shouldna said that. Where’d he hit him? (pause)
Well, just clean up the blood and I’ll be on home.
Darrell (to Floyd): I guess I better get on home. (pause) You want another piece of that pie first?

Conversation Four
Man (hollering to 50-ish blonde in a pick-up truck): If your husband gets mad, come do me sometime.

Conversation Five
Large man: ‘dju see the news today?
Larger man: Yup. We outta just blow them tail-heads and Israelites away.
Large man: Yup. That’ll shut ‘em up.
Larger man: Yup.
Large man: LBJ. Now there’s a President. ‘ssassinated a President and got off scot free.
Larger man: Yup. Named his dog Ho Chi Min.
Large man: Useta kick it.
Larger man: Yup.

We were sad to go. God knows what else we’d have learned had we been able to stay longer.