Grand Opening, Sausage Links, and the Missing Link

Broken Springs celebrated the grand opening of Haybreak Café today. Owner Fred Dustbin purchased the business after many years following his ownership of Jack Frost before it was torn down and replaced by another friendly little small town business, Rite Aid Pharmacy.

I decided to venture down to Haybreak in the hopes of gathering some journalistic fodder on the new talk of the town. Also because I was hungry as hell and growing an immunity to McDonald‘s double cheeseburgers. Upon entering the building, the first difference I noticed was that the waitress was more fully dressed than the last time I was in there and she didn’t have an armful of infants. I chose to sit in a booth, from where I could watch the dangerous Mechanic and Ferry Street intersection. The Nascar fan in me cannot be suppressed. In the course of my meal, I noted three obvious traffic infractions: one left handed turn at the top of the hill, a car going straight in a right turn only lane, and a car parked in a no parking zone. And as luck would have it, not a cop in sight because they’re only visible around 2 AM when the bars are letting out. Determined to not let the idiocy of Broken Springs driving ruin my dinner, I decided to draw the curtains and resolve myself to the latest blowjob with words edition of the Journalistic Error. In an article detailing the shenanigans of patrolman Daniel Shame, the editor of the Error coincidently forgot to include the alleged officer’s name, yet miraculously remembered his name while reporting on the praise he was given by his boss, Jim Kingston.

I couldn’t help but to notice the irony of the situation. The Haybreak Café is where Kingston used the infamous N word a decade ago, while dining with another officer and the fire chief of the time. These memories induced a sick feeling within me and suddenly I had very little appetite for my scrambled egg, hash browns, and sausage links doused in maple syrup.

That’s not to say that the food was bad, however. It was very tasty, and served very quickly. Yet, the table beside me ordered a taco salad that looked utterly delectable and I found myself gazing at it like a hungry puppy as I wolfed down my evening breakfast. I was unaware just how often I was gazing upon the other guy’s taco salad until he caught me staring and I gave him an embarrassed wave. Next thing I know, he’s walking over to my table as I licked the syrup off my last sausage link.

His name was Chris, and the poor boy had misinterpreted my tactless ogling. I was wearing a ballcap, dirty jeans, the same tee shirt I’d slept in, and absolutely no undergarments of any kind, yet I was asked out by an out of towner with a delicious looking dish. Almost embarrassed because I had not even brushed my teeth, I succinctly told him that I have a boyfriend, but thanked him anyway. I might’ve even offered him a night out on the town had he not suspiciously looked like Darwin’s Missing Link. I could’ve taken him to see the night life of Broken Springs, but I don’t know what we would’ve done for the other 4 hours of the date. I regret that he’ll never see the Broken Springs water tower under a moonlit sky, or sail on Lake Chopin while the September wind nips at his neck hair. But oh well. My interest in him didn’t reach beyond the ground beef, tomatoes, and lettuce on his plate.

All in all, I recommend the fine dining of Haybreak Café. But it’s better to leave your wandering eyes at home. If not, they are sure to ruin your meal, one way or another.