Old Lady Diner (Or, Turn, Turn, Turn)

One Sunday morning about a month ago, I was having breakfast at a diner in my neighborhood. Yes, I am so old that going out for breakfast at 8 A.M. on a Sunday is now a reasonable, pleasant, and thoroughly enjoyable thing to do. I now also enjoy seeing movies on weekends at 11 A.M. because it's less crowded and the youthful riff-raff is nowhere to be found.

Sometimes I think, Jesus Christ, just call the AARP already and see if you can get an early-bird discount membership.

Having breakfast at a diner that early on a Sunday means I encounter two groups of people: up-and-at-'em old ladies like myself...and...party people who are just exiting bars and clubs who are still still drunk/coked/whacked out of their gourds and in dire need of some kind of greasy sustenance.

So, on this said Sunday, as I'm casually eating a Greek omelet, a guy and a girl roll in with busted, matted hair and reeking of vodka, cigarettes, and clammy, boozy sweat. They plop down in the booth behind me. So, while I didn't have the complete visual picture, I did get to experience the following dialogue:

DRUNK GIRL: OmmmmmmmmmmmmygoddddI'mhunnnnnnnngry

DRUNK GUY: I've NEVER been here before! WHAT should I get?

DRUNK GIRL: It'slikeadineranshitsoyoucangetwhatevercausetheyhaveeverythinganshit... becauseit'slikeadineranshitttttttt.

The waiter approaches, clearly scared of what has been poured into his section.

WAITER: Can I get you coffees?

DRUNK GUY: WHAT kind of COCKtails do you have?

WAITER: It's before noon. I can't serve you drinks.

DRUNK GUY: FUCK. How about a FANCY coffee then? Like a MOCHAfuckingCHINO or something with whippppped cream and Bailey's?

WAITER: Um, yes. But no Bailey's.

DRUNK GUY: WHAT KIND OF A PLACE IS THIS?

DRUNK GIRL: Jussssgitafuckincooofffeeorsomeshittt

DRUNK GUY: OK, OK fine. Just TWO coffees.

Waiter leaves.

DRUNK GIRL: WhatwasgoingonwithyouandDaniellllle?

DRUNK GUY: Omigod. She was coming on to me. She was all "YOU'RE NOT REALLY GAY!" and I was all "BITCH. I SO am." and she was all "I'm gonna TURN YOU!" and I was all "OHNOHONEY!"

DRUNK GIRL: Omigodshedidnotsaythat.

DRUNK GUY: Oh, HONEY. She DID.

Waiter returns with coffees.

WAITER: Do you know what you want to have?

DRUNK GUY: I've NEVER been HERE before! Like, GIVE ME THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE!

DRUNK GIRL: OhgodlikeItoldyouitwasjusssadineranshit.

WAITER: Should I come back?

DRUNK GUY: What's like THE BEST thing to have here?

WAITER: Omelets? Pancakes? Waffles?

DRUNK GUY: NO! I know. I want a CHEESEBURGER!

WAITER: OK. Deluxe? What kind of cheese?

DRUNK GIRL: YouarestillsowastedIcan'tbelieveyouwantacheeseburgeranshhhit.

DRUNK GUY: Shut UP! That's what I want. Deluxe. AMERICAN cheese!

DRUNK GIRL: PancakesanbaacconIneedtogotothebathroom.

They gurgled back and forth like that for while. When I finally got up to leave, I turned to see both of them slumped down on either side of the booth, eyeliner smeared, barely conscious.

Ahhhhh...Sundays in Manhattan.