They Sell Big Chairs Here

I moved to this country expecting big cities, big lights, big guns and discord amongst the population. By a serious colossal wild turn of events I found my self smack dab in the middle of Texas.

You know life is not rolling your way when you are 50 miles past the last available restaurant and you only have a single Lyle Lovett cd in the rental car. You can only listen to that cassette so many times.

I listened to Texas Public radio in the middle of somewhere, heading to nowhere in particular. I am not really hungry as the sun comes up over the eastern horizon. Garbage bag trees emerge in the morning sunlight as a wind creeps in from the west.

So, I travel to new places that speak different languages, I start with the basics — “One more coffee, please.”, “Where is the bathroom? Just enough to get what I need, and make it clear that I’m trying.

I drove another 45 minutes where the absolute nothingness turned into another shade of absolute nothingness. Yes, something told me there had to be something civilized up ahead.

In the distance, there was a smattering of buildings and stop lights flashed YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW. A tumbleweed laden with trash bags spun across the road and the morning hinted at much needed rain.

Rain is a rarity around here as is a semblance of civilization so I expected my eyes to be playing tricks. I noticed the radio was no longer pulling in the local public radio station.

I slowly maneuvered the rental car between two larger than needed pickup trucks. The larger brandished a gun rack and a large assortment of flags which I did not care to decipher the meaning of.

In the oasis sat a rusty filling station, a car parts store and a restaurant they call “The Cracker Barrel”.

Walking into The Cracker Barrel felt like I was walking into another planet. They say Martians are green but these aliens in Cracker Barrel are very very white. The girl at the front counter certainly seemed uncomfortable talking to me as she averted her eyes toward the kitchen.

Do you mind if I look at the menu?

“You go right ahead sweetie and in the mean time I will get another table ready.”

I read the menu with a tired amusement. They certainly eat breakfast any time of day here, was my first casual observation. The menu was certainly large enough so I assumed they could probably cook almost anything.

The waitress, she Is pretty enough with a superficial charm that was larger than life, returned as I set the menu aside.

“What will it be sweetie?“ she said as she shifted her hips to the left.

“I think a simple vegetable curry would suffice.”

“Could you kindly order in English sweetie?”