115

No, it's not just a number. And it's not the time. It's a restaurant at a truck stop outside of Marshall, Michigan.

It's really nothing fancy. The place is neat and clean, the service is good and friendly, and it's right off the highway, meaning it's very easy to get to. A quick exit off I-94 and a quick re-entry and you're on your way after a meal.

The only reason it sticks out in my mind is because me Pops liked it. He typically stopped there to eat on his swings through the western part of Michigan. I tend to stop there too.

I think I might even take my son there when we drive to Chicago next weekend, just to show him one of his grandfather's haunts. I mean, why not? You gotta eat somewhere.

Fake threats

I like when you can joke with people. Especially folks you only meet once.

A few weeks ago I left very early for a sales trip. I was wide awake and staring at the unentertaining TV and figured, might as well get started. What this meant was that I had a lot of extra time to kill. So, when I came across a truck stop a couple hours out of Detroit, I figured I may just treat myself to a sit down breakfast.

I ordered an omelette and once finished eating I sought out the waitress to pay directly, as I don't like leaving cash on the table. She had given me the bill a few minutes before.

When she came out from the kitchen and started towards the register, I slapped the bill on the counter and said in mock anger, "Let's settle this!"

In a perfect reply she demanded, "Right here, right now!"

We both laughed, then I paid and was on my way. It wasn't the worst start to a day.

The buffet challenge

Who doesn't love buffet restaurants? They're like a challenge, a big dare which you cannot let pass. Although they're sort of like sticking your tongue on a cold pipe when you think about it.

I should avoid buffets. Of all the food choices out there they are probably the least good for my health. So I believe that there are two approaches to buffets: avoid them altogether, or discipline yourself when you eat at one.

The latter option isn't much fun. I tried it at a breakfast buffet while on the road recently.

As I entered the dining area I told myself, steady, old boy. Just two plates. And neither heaping helpings either.

I already didn't like where that was heading.

After giving my order to the waitress along with a request for coffee and orange juice, a large orange juice because juice is good for you, isn't it, I built my first serving. A scoop of scrambled eggs, likewise a helping of hash browns, sausages, less than a half pound of bacon (I think) and sausage gravy over the eggs. No biscuits. I had to draw a line somewhere. Sacrifices had to be made.

When I sat to eat, my brain fired instructions. Break the bacon rashers and eat in two or three bites, it insisted. Split the sausages into three pieces. All right, you can dip them in the gravy on the eggs since the gravy's there. Chew everything, even the eggs. No rush to eat, Marty. You'll only eat too much.

Stupid brain.

Get a second plate. Eat it the same way, brain continued. So I did. Neither helping heaped. I finished, paid, and left, all the while telling myself that I did well. All the while trying to convince myself that I was satisfied.

Yet I can't help thinking that I lost the challenge.