October 30, 2009
Last Night at the Geriatric Cafeteria
One of the million things I love about Mia is her fondness for an independent cafeteria not too far from our house. She and I have dates on Thursday nights while Daryl teaches, and last night she wanted to go to the cafeteria. I am–at 51– invariably the youngest person there, save for Mia. She sits very happily and watches the old people totter about; she shows no sign of alarm or even curiosity about the sometimes odd behavior that surrounds us.
Last night, a very old fellow walked past our booth, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, apparently on his way to find an iced tea refill. A young cafeteria worker walked briskly past him–a good ten feet away–and the old fellow started tottering off in a different direction, apparently sent adrift by the young man’s wake.
Normally, the piano is set to its Player Piano mode, but last night a dapper old gentleman in cream-colored slacks played–mostly 1930s hits. At one point he glanced at me and saw that I was actually listening, so he launched into a surprisingly able jazz performance of Cry Me a River. He followed it, inexplicably, with a heartfelt rendering of the old hymn, He Walks With Me.
I’m not sure why I feel the need to tell y’all about this mundane experience that proved so unexpectedly powerful for me. But here it is.
comments
11 Responses to “Last Night at the Geriatric Cafeteria”
Leave a Reply
perfect.
“alarm”?
“curiosity”?
Lord-a-mercy, Cindy. Could it have been the — was it a Wyatt’s Cafeteria?– where, back in the glitter rock days, a friend of a friend and I asked an old woman who was tickling the ivories if she would play “Surrey with the Fringe on Top”?
just love it.
Frank Patrick, I’ve changed the wording of the sentence to clarify that it was Mia who displayed neither alarm nor curiosity. If you were reading the sentence that way and still don’t know what I’m talking about, I can only assume you are not acquainted with many young children!
Sheilababy, the prize for best description of a public performance of a piano or organ goes to my old pal, Bill Jennings, for making me pee my pants as he described the ancient woman somewhere in Kansas who played “She’s Having My Baby” on a spinning organ in the middle of a grocery store.
Rick–I knew you would.
Cindypunkin, can you reveal the identity of the geriatric cafeteria? I just wonder if there is a chance it is the one I recall from that long ago night. (1970s Dallas: What a time. What a place.)
Sure, hon–it’s a reincarnation of the grand old Highland Park Cafeteria, which went out of business around 15 years ago. This one is called Highland Park Cafeteria, but it’s in the Casa Linda section of East Dallas. It’s been around for about 30 years–originally as a second location of HPC, then as an independent cafeteria that just kept the old name.
There used to be a similarly geriatric cafeteria on Mockingbird Lane near SMU. I think it was called Mr. J’s. It had a real David Lynch feel to it. Come to think of it, I think it had a piano. Could that be the one?
Dang, babycat. I disremember. I was on drugs most times I dined (or lunched) at Dallas cafeterias in the seventies.
But I do recall the Highland Park Cafeteria (the original).
And I sure know Casa Linda.
I don’t remember Mr. J’s.
But I have actually lunched at the S & S Tea Room in The [Highland Park] Village.
Still and all, what I don’t remember — why, I could write a book.
This is right off the intersection of Loop 12 (Buckner) and Garland Rd.? Or is this the one near Gus Thomasson?
Buckner at Garland. I didn’t know there was another one–I’ll have to make a field trip.
Well, the one I’m thinking of–if it’s still there–isn’t a “Highland Park” cafeteria. I think it’s called Pat Luby’s (not Luby’s). It’s near the intersection of Gus Thomasson and Ferguson, though it seems like Gus Thomasson might not be called Gus Thomasson once you go west of Ferguson. I’m not sure.