Snow Day - Part V by G.E. Meyer < Go To Previous Section > The period of time between dawn and darkness, or the light side of the day, develops its own personality and character as it progresses. This personality varies with the weather, the time of year, and most of all with the person experiencing it. Much like a flower, it begins to open with the first rays of light and by the time we are ready to leave our own living space the pedals are open and we are free to come and go with little thought of returning. This freedom continues until, imperceptibly, even before the light begins to fade, the pedals begin to contract in preparation for coming of darkness. We have no control over the weather or other natural phenomena during this period of time, but the way we adapt and use this time determines our own personal evaluation of the day's personality. Hence, the term bad, rotten, or even wasted day is more an assessment of what we were able to do with our day rather than a judgment of the day itself. It is during this period of time when the pedals are closing that we become retrospective about life and are most likely to experience the melancholy of loneliness. This mood is exacerbated if we are not in our own particular space surrounded by friends or family with whom we can share the alienation which the absence of light produces. This is the time in which I found myself as I entered the Chicken Coop. I entered the "Coop" as a stranger, but by the time I left they were calling me by my first name and showing a genuine interest in my plight. This was not because of any personal magnetism, rather I was there so long they couldn't ignore me. I ordered a two-piece dinner and seated myself by the window. I hurried so I would be ready when the tow truck arrived, but I would have had time for a leisurely five-course dinner. Even fast food restaurants have their individual paces and characters. Most people spend about the same amount of time. To stay longer one soon begins to feel he is out of the syn with his fellow men. Once again I felt I was sitting on the sidelines as a spectator, and I had ample time to observe my fellow creatures. Snowstorms are exciting, especially those in late winter. Early winter storms forebode a long cold winter, but after the middle of February it is more like a farewell to winter. Kids hope for one more snow day. Sportsmen have one more chance to use their winter equipment, and the Toro snow blower has yet another chance to prove it will start. Brave souls test the elements, not so much because they must get somewhere but to prove that they can get there. Men celebrate this ritual at the local coffee shops in the morning and family groups do the same thing in the evening after a day of confinement in the home. Many of the patrons of the "Chicken Coop" were families. This fact, plus the coming of darkness added to my feeling of solitude as I maintained my silent vigil. Their entrances seemed to follow a pattern. The father or other group leader would gallantly hold the door while hte others entered, stomping their feet and brushing the snow from their clothes. They would look about triumphantly as if expecting applause for their efforts. Except for me, everyone else was secluded in their own social units. After the thrill of the conquest subsided they too would place their order and find a seat by a window to observe the elements while they feasted. I observed these activities while I picked at my cold french fries. I had moved away from the window to the center row of seats so I had to look over the other diners to watch the traffic. A few other meaningless observations: I noticed that when there were just two people, a man and a woman, there was very little conversation. In larger groups, one person seemed to dominate the conversation. The others seemed content to eat and listen. Most people ordered the special, which was four pieces of chicken, french fries and slaw for $2.98. It may have included a drink also. Very few could eat all of it, but it was the best bargain. Very few people used doggie bags. The busy time was between five and seven o'clock. As the crowd diminished, I felt more conspicuous. I walked up to the boy at the cash register to explain my plight. All the help seemed relieved when they found out why I was hanging around. They began to show concern for me and even offered to let me use the phone. Jon seemed surprised that I wa sstill there, but assured me that so far as he knew help was on the way. He took my phone number in case there was any change. I felt a warm glow of acceptance and reassurance as I returned to my lookout. The door opened again and a familiar face appeared. Oran looked around until he spotted me. "They haven't come yet?" The question was moot because my truck was very obviously sitting in front of his house. "Not yet. I just called and Jon said as far as he knew they were on the way. Are there any motels close in case I have to stay overnight?" "Yeah, there's one right down the street. That is, if you want to spend $22. You can stay with us. I sleep on one sofa but you can sleep on the other." "Oh, I wouldn't want to put you out," I protested. "You wouldn't be putting us out. It would give me someone to talk to. Dad just sits and watches TV anyhow." I silently considered the options but decided if the choice presented itself I would stay in a motel. I was flattered by the offer, but needed to be "in control" again even if it cost $22. Oran's order arrived, the special plus an extra order of onion rings. He offered to buy me something too, but I declined except for a cup of coffee. I secretly longed for just a taste of his hot food just to get rid of the taste of cold french fries. Oran wolfed his food but I didn't blame him. I hadn't seen him eat all day. I cast about for a subject to keep the conversation going. "How's Phil do in school?" I asked, not even feeling guilty for being nosey. I was beginning to feel like a visiting uncle and part of the family. "He does really well. As and Bs." "I'm not surprised. He just seemed like a good student from what I saw of him today." "Is he in high school?" "Yup, tenth grade. He's going to stay in too if I have anything to say about it. He's not going to make the same mistake I did." "I think he will. He seems like a serious kind of guy." I kept looking out the window and listening for the phone. The help was cleaning up now that all the customers were gone. < Continued In A Couple of Weeks >

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