Dust up at the Windmill..

Not really, but pretty close.  Dust up, means a fight or argument. Much more than just words passed between two people or groups.

So, into story telling mode I go.

The date was Wednesday, August 14, my first day back from my “relaxing” vacation. My knees hurt and I was a little overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. See the previous blog posting to get up to speed (or not..).  I went to the Windmill to get two hot dogs with chili and cheese. A comfort meal for me. And I had a coupon, so one of the hot dogs was free. I walked into the Windmill and there was only one person seemingly in line.  He was kind of standing where the line goes, kinda looking spacey and lost. I stood behind him and waited my turn. He got his hot dog and turned suddenly to go and get some condiments, nearly knocking me down. I just smiled and he walked around me and got his relish and stuff, walked back the counter, paid for his food and went to sit down.

My turn, yes, comfort food approaches. I am somewhat of a regular at the Windmill. I usually go there three out of four weeks each month. It really depends on the coupons and what is on special. I tell the lady at the counter what I want, and she relays the order to the lady working the grill. She stepped away from the counter to fill my drink. While she was gone, two older (older than me) women came in the stood next me at the counter. Not behind me (like in a line or que), next to me. Ok, I thought, tourists that don’t see the need to wait in line. They tried to get the attention of the grill lady who saw them and looked away. She knew what they were up to. Lines were not for these two. Not today, not ever.

I got my two dogs and the ladies were still next to me chatting. I wanted to put mustard on my dogs, but the ladies were between me and the mustard. I asked the ladies to excuse me so that I could get the mustard. The lady closest to me said, NO. I raised one eyebrow and looked at her. She stepped back. I said “It’s a good thing you moved or I would have given you a shot with my elbow!” They just stood there and watched as I put the mustard on my dogs. They made some other comment as I walked away to find a seat. I  expressed another thought to them not quite under my breath.

Wow, that sucked, But comfort food. Yum. I sat down at the middle table outside. Behind me were four elderly gentlemen eating their lunch. In front of me was a 30 something mom with a baby in a car seat. The baby and car seat were in the middle of the table. The mom was working on getting a bottle ready as the husband and daughter went inside to get some food. Then an elderly couple in their late 70’s, maybe early 80s, walked up behind me and sat down at her table. I figured they were the grand parents. I thought that table is going to be crowed with the baby and all those people.

The mom says to them “My husband and daughter are going to be sitting in those seats”.  Hmm, I guess they are not the grandparents. The woman says that they just want to sit down and that they had eaten already. When the mother asked again about them sitting there, the elderly women told her that a friend was in the bathroom and they were waiting for her.  Ok, not my problem. So the husband gets up from the table and sits at my table, with his back to me. Never acknowledging that I am sitting there. I watched all this so I’m just going to let them slide, for now.

The elderly women asks the mother about the baby, trying to make small talk since the barged in uninvited. The baby’s name was Kennedy. Oh, the elderly women exclaimed. And then the mother offered that the daughter in the restaurant was named Reagan and that the have a son named Logan. The elderly lady remarked that they named all their children with Irish names.  So, the friend in the bathroom comes out and they get in their car and drive away. End of the story? Almost. The husband comes out and sits down with the daughter and mother to eat his lunch. The mother looks at the husband and asks “Did you know that we named our children with Irish names?” He just looked up at her and looked back down at his food.

I don’t have any pictures to go with that story. Here are a few from Monday afternoon when we got home from Lake Placid. This seems to be my personal little black rain cloud.

As I write this, DS1 asks why there is no hot water in the house.  Just breathe…

Namaste

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