the number one

give me three eggs over easy
I tell the waitress

in her pink dress, a color that
hurts my eyes
at this early hour.

not unlike the color of my
own eyes.

if my mouth wasn't so dry,
and I didn't have a headache

I might actually try and flirt
with her.

she looks to be my age within a few
decades or so.

bacon, I tell her. six strips,
crispy, none of that soft
and floppy bacon, please.

wheat toast, butter, jam
and coffee.

two waffles too, with syrup.

keep the coffee coming.

rough night, she asks, taking
the pencil out from behind
her ear and hair.

sort of I tell her. sort of.
did I mention hash browns.

no, you didn't.
well, I want those too. lots
of onions and slice
up some jalapeno

peppers, if you can manage
that. and orange juice, no pulp.

and three Tylenols, no aspirin,
i'm allergic to aspirin.

okay, she says. so you want the number
one.

I look at her and laugh.
yes.

yes, give me the number one.

you got it hon. be right back
with your coffee.