Mom’s Diner

In the wee hours of a dusky fog morn’ I gather my belongings and head to the car rattling my brain searching for something I have lost or left behind. How many guests will be attending breakfast? How much food do we need to prepare for the Rotarians? Did I forget something for our lunch crowd?! Oh my, Mothers Day Brunch! I am on my way to work, our family owned and operated restaurant, Division Street Diner. We have been in this location about for two years, on highway 80, Division Street, a main strip between Fort Worth and Dallas. Arlington smack, dab in the middle makes a great stopping point. Heavy traffic remains to be great for business.

Entering through the side door I scurry for the alarm, drop my bags, hit the lights on and ignite the blazing hot oven and grills. The shop is brilliantly clean, black and white plaid linens cover the tables, sleek gray walls covered with a random collection of decorations from our homes cover the shelves. Photos of ancestors in their own bakeries and pharmacy soda shops fill the rooms. The restaurant is odorless and deathly silent. Other than the equipment and the rage of the furnace not a sound is heard. Simply silent, sometimes comforting and greatly appreciated just enough to make me want to go back to sleep. I readily stumble for the radio, turn on my favorite station and proceed to jumpstart my busy day. Music from the past and today’s hard rock pumps my blood, energizing my body and soul. My chores become much easier, not so chaotic. My body gradually increasing the stream of motion it needs to compose a productive day.

Wait staff began arriving about five o’clock am., we talk about business, the elderly customers we have not seen recently and access the day ahead. Laughter arouse when we questioned, who will be the late employee? Here he is, it’s Hector! He’s late again, about thirty minutes late. We tease him and remind of the importance of being on time. He’s a hard worker and can make up for lost time rapidly.

Bustling around the diner we prepare for the opportunity to please our customers on the busy day ahead. We greet our familiar early rising customers some are now like family. Others we see everyday but the only sounds we hear out of their mouths are the order and thank you. It’s a busy day; seems to be never ending, customers welcomed by our greetings served and rolling out the door just a bit plumper than they were upon arrival. Breakfast just began and we are already preparing lunch, where did the time go? We have seated several groups of ladies for bridge, canasta and one group of Red Haters