D's typical day -97

from D's notebook
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    I walk into the place where I get coffee.  A little after eight in the morning.
In this coffee shop the women wear little white paper hats.  The Irish woman wears glasses, too, always knows what I want.
    Anyway I walk in, and the Irish woman is saying to a much younger, stout, Indian woman (who also works there)
"What are you about? You're starin' into space."
"Oh," says the young woman.  "I was just thinking about Billy."
"Billy? Who's Billy?" the older woman says, cocking a brow.
"Oh, I don't know," says the girl.

    Sometimes I go to a place for lunch called "The Italian Deli."  It's not Italian. The owner, I think, from the Bureau of some kind of Inspection paper posted on the wall with a photograph on it, signifies that the owner is Asian, maybe from Malaysia.  So many congealed consonants in the name.  The Italian Deli has a $3 lunch special.  Ham, salami, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise on a roll, with a can of soda and a bag of chips thrown in.
    So anyway the other day I walked in and said to the guy (my father's age) who makes the sandwiches,
"Uh, I'll have the special."
"The Summer Special?" he said.
"Yes."
"Summer's over."
"......"
"But we've got an Autumn Special, it's the same price."
"What is it?"
"Same thing."