(Click on the image to see a larger size)
"That Guy Could Talk a Dog Off a Meatwagon" is one of my favorite sayings by my aunt Barbara. We have a lot of talkers in our extended family and also on Cape Cod, where she lives. I think it's the long winters that drives them to blather on about anything or everything once they get a listener. Whether that's true or not, Barbara says this phrase every so often and I always get a kick out of it. Now, I have adopted it as my own, and Tim gets a kick out of it every time I say it. So, this piece gets the title for the obvious reason that the main character is talking incessantly to us, the viewer. Maybe he's lecturing us on the merits of Mini golf or the uncertainty of this years Kentucky Derby. Nobody knows because we've all kind of stopped listening and are nodding our head and uttering, "...don't I know it..." every once in a while and hoping that someone will come over and save us from this guy who just keeps on talking. We have some regulars like that at the Cafe Loup and I am one of those people who gets caught by them all the time. You see, some of our customers really like to talk to me. I think it's another case of they'll talk to anyone who will listen, but they can sure go on. And on top of that, they are usually oblivious to the fact that they are not the only table in the restaurant. They'll go on and on about How Terrible Times Square Is Now or maybe New York Isn't What It Used To Be (thats very popular) or the worst one, The Weather. I stand there like a freakish gargoyle, hovering over their table with a shit-eating grin on my face, nodding and holding their dirty plates, while they wax poetic on these and ten other topics. And most of the time, their drunk! So you might even hear the same story a couple of times in one sitting (or standing). But that's why they call us waiters after all; we wait for the stories to end, we wait for the punch line to come, and finally we wait for all the customers to go home. I don't want to offend my regulars here either. The Cafe Loup is a place where you can have amazing conversations that span hours and sometimes continue the next time they come in. But these conversations are usually with a core group of regulars who don't mind if you leave them mid sentence to go grab some extra mayonnaise for table 2B. These people make the job interesting and worth coming in for. It's those other people, the ones who think they're regulars because they come occupy some space once a month and demand your ear holes for the meager 10% they'll leave as a tip that I'm talking about here. I'm not going to name any names or point any fingers, but I should because they're not reading this blog anyway.