Steak&Shake

Currently reading- I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
Currently listening to- Wonderwall(acoustic) by Oasis

“Have you ever been to a Steak&Shake?” Guy asks, as we zoom by one on I90
“No, I don’t think I have,” I reply in ernest.
“Let me tell you my Steak&Shake story” Guy pauses, and glances back from the drivers seat to make sure that I can hear.
“It was the late fifties, I had just graduated from high school, and I wanted two things: a car and a girlfriend… not in that particular order of course.” Guy pauses, chuckling to himself.
“So, there I was, sitting at the Riverside Steak&Shake when this beautiful girl drives up in her convertible. So, of course when I see her out there in front of that Steak&Shake, I just had to take my chance and ask her out,” Guy pauses once more and smiles as he takes his eyes off the road, and glances back yet again, “Four years later, we got married, still are to this day.”
“did you have your reception at the Steak&Shake?” I ask jokingly.
“ah, if only we had thought of that, that would have been just perfect.” Guy laughs, as he takes a turn onto an off ramp, almost missing it. At this point, I wonder if maybe Guy should be watching the road rather than entertaining; I quickly shove the thought away, as he begins a new story about the Good ol’ Days, this one involving the rampant racism in the US, specificly in Kentucky. I take this chance to interject some facts about Obama, and the steps he has made towards minimizing the divide caused by racism.
“that’s the honest to goodness truth there Bridget,” he remarks as we pull into a large gas station. “Unfortunately we have some old dogs in this country Bridget, and some old dogs have trouble with things that change. You young people are better at that, you can see things that older folks can’t,”
I sense that the mood needs lightening, “I see dead people,” I joke, getting a laugh out of Guy, as he opens the bus door, waiting to see if we will be getting any more company for the ride.
Five minutes later, and we have only acquired one more passenger, who upon stepping on the bus, moves to the very back, and falls asleep instantaneously. Guy looks out the door one last time, making sure that he isn’t leaving any possible riders and closes the door. We drive about ten more minutes in silence. Guy is eating radishes with one hand while keeping the other on the steering wheel. This immediately makes me think of the song Plant a Radish, from The Fantastiks(my current favorite musical,) and of course, once the song is stuck in my head, there is only one way to get rid of it; listening to it multiple times on repeat until I begin to resent it for being so redundant.
Even though our chatting has temporarily ceased, Guy still chips in comments every minute or two about our location, or makes a remark about how lucky it is to get such great weather while I am in town. I nod, mumble my agreement, and continue listening to Jerry Orbach as the next song comes up. I have taken my ipod off repeat, and now have it on shuffle. At this point, I think to myself that it would have been wise to download a podcast or two before leaving Madison.
I must have dosed off, because when I next opened my eyes, there were about ten other people on the bus. Guy had polished off his radishes, and had moved onto grapes. This made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and that it would probably be a good idea to eat the lunch that I had bought for myself at the bus station. I ate my sandwich and chips, saving my cookie for later.
I do believe that today I may have met one of my best friends.
His name is Guy.
And I would share my cookies with him any day of the week.