May The Perkins Be With You

"Don't look behind you, Mom, but that guy is swinging his cane around like a blind man on meth."

"What?!"

"Shh."

We were at Perkins (yaay!!), in a booth waiting for our scrumptious meals to arrive. Mom was telling me about Medora's latest boweling when the old guy in the booth behind her started waving his cane. At first I thought he was looking for a teen to hit, but then I saw the fly buzzing around.

"Anyway, Medora started to push and she-- Oww!"

Mom got clocked with the cane. The man rose, tottered over, and profusely apologized. He even tried to pay her for the "damages," but, flustered and blotchy, Mom declined. The fly continued to buzz around.

"I'm either getting hit, or hit on," Mom said, rubbing at her head.

Her next-door neighbor, Dave, was 92 and a Pearl Harbor survivor. Mom reported that he had come by her house yesterday and tried to grope and/or kiss and/or squat on her.

"He's trying to bomb your harbor, huh," I said wryly. I tried, and failed, to arch an eyebrow.

"He doesn't like how I feed the pigeons, of course. And now he's mad about the ducks. I have a group of ducks who have made their home in my back yard. I keep throwing bird seed out for them, but two of the ducks keep getting bullied by the others. Can you believe that? The group won't let them eat, and I hate that. It's really upsetting."

"Stupid capitalist ducks. Have you tried introducing them to the Communist Manifesto?"

"I know you think you're funny, but you really aren't. Nothing you say is funny to me."

"Quack." I hung my head.

Our meals arrived. Mom had her manhole-sized waffles slathered in sewerfuls of maple syrup. I had the lady-sized omelette with fruit on the side.

"You should eat your fruit, you know."

"And you shouldn't be eating waffles. I think we're even."

"You don't have to get persnickety with me. I am your mother, you know."

"Mm."

Then I brought up the subject of seeing Rick at the condo in order to possibly sell it.

"Oh, I suppose you were just lovey-dovey with him. Everyone just kicks you in the teeth and you just take it. You're just like me that way. Just the doormat for the world."

"But what about Jesus?"

Mom was startled. She looked down at her half-eaten waffle as if he might be there. "What about Him?"

"Turn the other cheek. Love thy enemy. And all that?"

"We're not talking about Jesus," Mom said vehemently. "We're talking about you! I suppose now you'll start hanging out with Rick like you do with Andy. Just there for everyone else's amusement."

"Yes. I've got the whole weekend planned now. Friday night with X1, and then Saturday night with X2. Pretty soon I'll be spending Sunday night with my third ex-wife and her new husband. The whoooo-le weekend will be the tits."

"You need help."

Just then a pistol shot went off. The old man had slammed his cane down on the table. He waved at us.

"Got it!" he said triumphantly.