CYBORG BRUNCH

A diner is a town hall, a meeting place for the exchange of ideas or to catch up with old friends. Incidentally, they also serve food.

Joe and Frank – two old compatriots – had come to the diner for a cup of coffee and brunch. They were ushered to their table following the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon. It was very noisy as a symphony of unintended percussion instruments performed in the open kitchen.

“What is the problem?”Inquire Joe, a tall skinny seventy-year-old man with a thick shock of grey hair and a creaseless face of a thirty year old.

“I can’t see the top of the creamer to peel off the cover. Everything has been opaque this week,” Frank answered.

Suddenly Frank slapped himself in the back of the head with the palm of his hand, dislodging his right eyeball, which flew into the hole of his newly arrived donut.

“Hey two points, what a great shot. I couldn’t do that again if I tried!” Frank exclaimed in jest.

Grabbing the orb and pressing a pressure point, the eyeball swung open revealing circuitry and light transmitters pulsing in communication with his brain.

“Now, let’s see what is wrong with this gizmo,” he considered. “Ok powdered sugar. I thought so. Must have been last week when I was cleaning it and eating a jelly donut at the same time. It looked like I was stranded with Admiral Byrd at the North Pole. Hey Joe how many penguins does the average polar bear eat for breakfast?”

“I don’t know Frank,” responded Joe, feeling that he was being set up.

“None they’re at the South Pole. Too long a schlep for a snack.

Frank laughed having amused himself. Joe was having trouble hearing Frank. He twisted off his left ear, dipped his napkin in the water glass and began to clean it. A few minutes later, Josephine, their waitress, a young woman with a curly black mane returned to bring Joe’s eggs finding Frank with the top of his head flipped open, having asked Joe to check under the hood. Joe was fanning his organ of benevolence with his Fedora to clear out any dust. His  own ear was sitting on top of the butter dish and Frank’s eyeball was back on the donut leering salaciously at Josephine.

“Hey boys this is a diner not a repair shop. I let you sit in the full human section, and this is how you repay me? You’re upsetting the other customers!”

Joe apologized and Frank told her, “You wear too much makeup.”

“Thanks I’ll make a note of that just in case I ever care what your opinion is,” Josephine admonished. “Now listen Inspector Gadget and R2D2 put yourselves back together and show some discretion! Search your memory banks for manners.”

Joe and Frank did as asked. They ate their breakfast in peace, paid the bill and then wobbled and shuffled out the door. Frank, flaying his arms around making some obnoxious point, the two old animatronics curmudgeons set off on the way to their next adventure.

Jim

March 2020