The Wing Nut Cafe
It was obvious why he sat in the corner every morning. If any unsuspecting customer sat at his table, they soon fled to a distant table. Joe was a regular, talkative and friendly. Not this morning. He had already run off any customers sitting within two or three tables of him. Everyone covered their drinks to avoid the blowback and spray of Joes efforts. Occasionally, a customer would take a small gulp and quickly cover their cup of coffee, or drink.
Helga watched from the serving window as the wait staff tried to gather customer orders and ensure the order did not receive a side order of unwanted fly’s, or protein. She frowned every time Joe snapped his swatter and yelled, “Ok Asshole”, or worse. She had purchased a high-tech metal swatter for Joe, but now wondered if that had been a good idea. Well, it was a little late for that.
The entire restaurant was getting into the fray. Bets were waged and the crowd was hooting and hollering as they stood or sat a safe distance from the impact area, which increased in size with each swat.
Entrails hung precariously from table and window ledges and the roof. Customers checked the roof before they took a drink or a bite of food. Another fly flew into the fly tape to avoid Joe’s wrath. Safer to end it all by choice than face a painful shredding. Joe sprinkled a bit of sugar on the table as bait. “To draw em in”, he said. Joe was having too much fun and was only getting started. He smiled with each swat and curse. I realized he would need special treatment as he muttered and drooled.
I sat aghast as Slim laid his hairy arm on the table like a slab of fresh meat, saying, “this is the ticket.” Joe’s lip curled and he continued to drool as he looked at the arm.
This was the breakfast crowd and a daily occurrence at the Wing Nut Diner. The usuals parked in the parking lot at 4 am to ensure a front row seat. The Wing Nut would not open until 5 am. The wait staff felt sorry for them as they peered through the windows and opened early.
Joes’ swatter began to clog with dead flies and with each swat, tables were covered with a thick smear.
Everything came to a dead stop as Helga took careful aim from the kitchen with her full auto Bug – A – Salt 3.0 special Orange Crush Edition. She cut loose with a salvo of rounds in the rapid-fire mode from the comfort of the serving window and shouted, “enough is enough!”. The morning was just getting started at the Wing Nut.
They are going fast so get your Big – A – Salt while you can.
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