Midway through telling a story about a woman who was born a man who was having sex with a man who doesn't know she's a man -- you know, just another episode of Jerry Springer -- the guy at the cafe counter, a friend of the proprietors, asked, "Is anyone back there?"
I was back there.
"Can he hear?"
Yeah, I could hear.
I was having a pancake and coffee in Spanaway. I'd already listened to the guy's F-bomb barrage about fixing one of his vehicles. Now he was keeping the cafe up to date on a transgendered Springer episode I may or may not have Tivo'd.
I put down Bukowski and listened. It wasn't exactly breakfast conversation. It was obvious he didn't like women who used to be men.
I tossed five bucks on the table and left. I didn't care about the change or the tip. I didn't want to bother the waitress. She was egging on the proprietors' friend and going, "Gross!"