John Margolies, Julie's Victory Diner Sign, State Street, Watertown, New York, 1995
Photograph (color transparency ; 35 mm)
Image Courtesy of the Library of Congress
Why do all dads talk to the waitresses at Denny’s like
the waitresses like them? Like they know a secret
the rest of us don’t. Why does he ask her dumb stuff –
what kind of batteries she uses but doesn’t say for what?
And we all think flashlight. And she says, oh you know,
big fat ones, Ds, or what do I know about gadgets and googly-
whats? And my mom goes abandoned-building quiet,
fork-stabbing the bits of scrambled egg, trying to crack
the plate, chews 20 bites for each piece and won’t talk, hmms,
rrrrrs, eyes flame-throwing the check, his hands,
the bills from his wallet – every 10, 5 ,1 – her tip, ashes –
and is first out the door, doesn’t breathe on the way home,
or bounce her head to whatever song’s on the radio, won’t
put the carton in the refrigerator, won’t eat the leftovers,
pancakes, the bacon. And when you reach – no. Ask nice -
No. Please? No. I’m hungry! No. I’m Starving!
She slaps the food to the floor, shoves her hand
in your mouth, Bite! Eat!