A Creature Unlike Any Other

The Diner was bustling in sharp contrast to the stillness of the town's main street. Nearly every table, as well as a generous row of bar stools, was occupied. Old and young, they chatted noisily between sips of coffee and toast bites. The air smelled heavily of grease and bacon. Guy's mouth watered with anticipation. He found the last booth empty, save for a local paper, and slid onto the bench facing the restaurant to observe. From what he could detect from his position at the back, there seemed to be one waitress working. Despite the hustle and bustle, the dirty plates, and the cluttered countertop, she seemed oddly pristine. She swung from table to table as though contained in an effervescent bubble, smiling as coffee swooshed around and around inside a glass carafe with an orange plastic top. There was an upside-down mug on the table, and Guy turned it over to signal his interest in a fill of the brew. Despite her age, which Guy estimated at about fifty, the woman seemed to glow with an unmistakable aura of youth. Her hair was a golden mass of curls, and her cheeks seemed brushed with a kiss of rosy color. Her makeup perfectly complimented the pink uniform that hugged her body through the waist and hips before fanning out into an A-line that swirled with her as she floated around the diner. Within moments, she passed him a laminated single-page menu. She filled his cup, handed him two sugars and two creamers, spun on her toes, and set off without saying a word. She returned in an appropriate amount of time with a tiny pad and silver pencil whose tip was the shape of a star. She indicated her readiness for his order by cocking her head slightly as she looked directly at him. "What will you be having today, guy?" Her white teeth sparkled when she smiled. "I will have number five, please," he replied. "Are you sure about that?" she questioned, "Our special is divine. And you'll need extra energy with the day you have ahead." Guy nodded as though he already knew the source. "Here," she pointed to an exurb in the bottom right corner of the local newspaper leftover from the last occupant of the booth. There, Guy discovered her quote printed in prominent, bolded ink. She gently coaxed the words away from the remaining paper with a careful tear and handed the clipping to him. "It's the saying of the week. Take it with you to remind yourself when things get a little," the waitress paused, "unclear." He picked up the square of paper to study the saying more closely. As he did so, the waitress bid him farewell. "Goodbye, guy. Travel safely." "Wait," he stopped her, "how do you know my name?" She said nothing, her bee-stung lips pressing together softly. She offered a subtle wink before seeming to float behind the swinging kitchen doors. Guy waited a moment or two for her to reemerge. When she did not, he gave up, shrugging his shoulders as he flipped over the bill and paid what he owed. In typical diner fashion, she wrote a little note at the top right corner of the bill in bubble cursive handwriting. Until we met again, Glinda from Diner North😊