Breakfast at The Burger Boy

A big woman walked from her table by the door toward the restrooms in the back. She left her husband and two other people sitting at the table smoking their cigarettes and laughing loudly. As she walked past the cash register without stopping, she looked at the skinny man in an apron bending over the grill.

Elvin, she shouted, How's your mother?

She's fine, he answered in a thick Kentucky accent as he cracked three eggs using only one hand.

Mean as ever, I suppose, she said, hardly waiting for his answer. And she chuckled.

He turned his head to look at her. He was smiling, but he said nothing. He turned back to the grill, picked up a spatula, and flipped his bacon over.

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London KY, summer 2003

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