Written by RS Janes “Here come your girlfriends, Jerry,” the waitress said sarcastically, pushing back a bright blonde curl from her forehead. Jerry the cook snorted a scowling laugh from behind the counter that separated the waitress from the kitchen in the little corner coffee shop, as two white-haired women, one using a cane with three prongs at the bottom, slowly opened the door and made their way into the restaurant. “Every day at five o’ clock,” the waitress murmured mostly to herself. “You could set your watch by it.” She filled up two glasses with water and took them to the table where the two elderly ladies were settling themselves in a red vinyl booth. “Hello, girls,” she said lightly, “I feel psychic today: I bet you’re both having the early bird dinner special, right?” “Ha, ha, Trudy,” said one of the pair, “You know us too well.” Trudy scribbled something on her order pad, walked back to the counter and said loudly, “One, two, you know what to do, Jerry.” Grim, barrel-chested Jerry snorted again from his refuge in the kitchen, laying two thin chicken breast patties to sizzle on the blackened, greasy grill. While the meat cooked,…
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