Across from old couple
at Taco Bell.
Again:
2 taco supremes
2 small drinks
held steady on tray as wife
wipes table.
Then apply
hand sanitizer
(rub hands together
vigorously for
thirty seconds.)
This is becoming
a regular Thursday
lunch date with me and
Betty and Ray.
The restaurant is slow today
but noisy with crackling radios
of three firemen,
in uniform and out to lunch.
The fireman with glasses yells
over the counter
to his taco-maker,
“No white stuff
but make sure there’s
plenty of yellow stuff instead.”
He repeats, slowly,
in plain english,
no sour cream.
lots of cheese.
I turn back to Betty and Ray,
and she’s asking about
what time they’re leaving for The Casino,
complaining,
the last time they left at
ten, it was so late and they
still will have to pick up Morty.
I can’t hear Ray’s
grunted response.
“Just wanted to
ask you—you’re the one
who has to drive home at night.”
We clear our trays
at the same time,
though I have been here
much longer.