Say Cheese

Me Pops had a good friend who hailed from Alabama, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, who asked Dad for help driving his family down for a visit one summer. As this was in the days before the Interstate Highway system, it helped on long trips to have two drivers alternate in order to keep moving.

They left on a Friday a bit before Noon. I should add that this also was in the days where Catholics couldn't eat meat on any Friday of the year. Dad was a serious Catholic, even at 20 years old.

Anyway, they made great time, and found themselves approaching an all night diner well after dark. Cloyce gave Mrs. Cloyce some money and told her to buy him, her, and their kids some hamburgers. "But don't get Bill nothing with meat, he can't eat it today," were his final instructions.

Mrs. Cloyce returned a few minutes later with hamburgers. And a cheeseburger for me Pops.

When she realized the brain cramp Mrs. Cloyce apologized profusely. "Don't worry," Dad assured her, "It's about 11:30. Leave it on the dash and I can eat it in a half hour."

No harm, no foul, right?