Out at Breakfast

I was at Breakfast with Daisy Jones and the Six. The server came up to me and asked how the book was, excited when she saw the title. I gave her a vague “it reads like a Rolling Stones article.” She asked if I meant that it just goes on without real chapters and then said she’s been wanting to read it. I was surprised she knew what I meant, but I am guessing she had heard about the book.

Later, after three cups of coffee, she came back and asked me if I’d like more coffee. I didn’t say what I wanted to, which was “sure, if you’d like me to stay here and you have to deal with me bouncing off the walls all day.” I just declined a fourth cup. She offered me water. Maybe she read my mind?

I left there considering bringing the book to her when I finish it. I know where she works, so I suppose I could. I wonder if she’d appreciate it.

2 thoughts on “Out at Breakfast

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