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Monster Media 1993 #2
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S&M-06
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1993-06-20
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John's Diner░░░░░░░░░░░Shall We Gather At the Corner?░░░░░░░ by Del Freeman
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"Has anybody seen that fella' on the corner?" asked Michael
Hahn as he entered John's Diner.
"AH-HEM," coughed Cosmo, eyeing Michael.
"Oh. Sorry Cos. Do you have a seat for me?"
Cosmo graciously indicated Michael could be seated at the
counter, and went back to studying his seating chart for the
evening crowd.
"You know, you really ought to get a real live maitre'd,"
Michael opined to John Chambers as he slipped onto the stool in a
voice too low to be overheard by Cosmo."Anyway, have you seen that
joker on the corner?"
"Nobody on the corner when I came in this morning," said John.
"What's he doing?"
"Doing? Well, he's freaking out, that's what he's doing.
Standing there talking to nobody and everybody, sometimes hollering
and sometimes not. The gist of his message seems to be that all the
wisdom in the world is to be found in the sayings of Garfinkel."
"Garfinkel as in the cartoon cat or Garfinkel as in Simon
and?" asked John.
"The cat, for Chrissakes," answered Michael. "He's wearing a
Garfinkel cat hat."
"Hummm," mused John, scratching his head. "Well, come to think
of it Garfinkel is usually pretty level-headed, isn't he?"
"He's a freakin' cartoon," said Michael. "He's not anything.
Somebody makes him up from day to day. This guy's talking like it's
some kind of religion, or something."
"Well... what's he saying?" John asked.
"Ah, just gobbledygook stuff about how peace is good, it is
what it is, eggplant lasagna is better than meat lasagna, that sort
of beebling," said Michael.
"Doesn't sound like anything insurrectionist to me," John
judged.
Michael fell silent, seemed to contemplate John's reaction,
turned his head in the direction of the corner.
***
"Hey, Cos, will you get back to your post?"
John shaded his eyes and peered toward the corner, where Cosmo
sat on a light pole listening to the Garfinkel religious nut. He
signaled he'd be right along.
John re-entered the diner and snatched up two menus, seating
the Burkhalters who were visting from California. He turned next
to the Slatterys, and put them in a corner booth, promising someone
would be right along to take their order.
"Lucia!" he shouted through the kitchen door. "Can't you do
something about that bird?"
Lucia emerged, her red pillbox hat set at a rakish angle,
flour on her nose. "Just relax, John," she soothed. "He's just
going through a phase, I think. It's just like last month when he
saw The Wizard of Oz on television and kept squawking until we
bought the movie and replayed it. Remember how he would flap his
wings and carry on every night until we put the tape in? He gets
these fixations and we just have to let him work through them."
"Well, if he doesn't hurry up and get this one behind him, I'm
going to have to hire a maitre'd. I can't let the business go down
the drain because Cosmo is fixated with some street nut."
Cosmo strutted into the diner and assumed his position atop
the podium and the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly. John
noticed Cosmo was particularly solicitous of the customers,
murmuring quietly to each as they were seated, and decided that
maybe the phase had passed.
***
"What's with Cosmo?" asked Howard Palmer the next morning.
"Ah, he's been going through a phase," said John.
"A Zen phase?" asked Howard.
"Nah, a Garfinkel and Wizard of Oz phase," explained John. "He
spends all his time listening to that kook on the corner and
watching Dorothy go down the yellow brick road. Don't know why it
hasn't warped his brain," he said.
"Maybe it has," offered Howard. "Last night, Michael Hahn's
brother Randall swore he heard Cosmo purring. Cecelio Morales said
Cosmo hummed two choruses of Amazing Grace when he seated him, and
when he seated me he whispered 'it is what it is.' Now what's that
supposed to mean?"
"Damned if I know, Howard," admitted John. "I'll have a talk
with him."
***
Cosmo arrived just before the lunch crush, wearing a Garfinkel
ankle band. "Peace," he intoned to John, holding one wing up in a
V sign.
"Cos, you've got to get off this kinky stuff," John ordered.
"No more muttering strange stuff to the customers, and take off
that stupid ankle band."
"John," said Cosmo in a placating tone. "Bubbulah, sweetie,
baby... mellow out. Chill. Everything's copasetic, chickie-boy."
"Everything is not copasetic," said John in a rising pitch.
"You're neglecting your duties and you're really beginning to hack
me off. If you keep it up, I'm going to have to replace you."
"No problemo, good buddy," said Cosmo. "In fact, I'm gonna'
be needing a leave of absence, anyway. I have some business
propositions to investigate, and I'll be out of town for a few
days."
John studied Cosmo, noted the fixated gleam in his eye.
"LUCIA!" shouted John.
She poked her head through the door and peered into the
restaurant.
"Your bird advises me he's taking a trip," said John.
"Hey, sweet mama," Cosmo greeted Lucia. "John's a little
excited. Fact is, I need some space to explore my potentialities,
you know. Got to find myself... see who I really am and all that.
You guys can hold down the fort until I get back. You understand,
don't you?"
Lucia looked at Cosmo. Looked back at John. Mumbled something
about heat stroke and disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Cosmo," began John logically, "you've got to get a grip. Do
you think fruit testacles grow on trees?"
He hesitated, realized what he'd said, and began again.
"I mean, there are certain practicalities of life you
obviously haven't considered. For instance, do you think providence
is gonna' provide cherry tomatoes on a regular basis?"
Cosmo grinned at John.
John tried again.
"Bird seed, ah, there's one. Do you think bird seed..." his
voice trailed off.
Cosmo saluted. He leaned close to John's ear. "It is what it
is," he whispered, turned and exited the diner.
Lucia wandered out from the kitchen and sat on a stool.
"Call Michael and ask him if he can stand in as maitre'd
tonight, will you?" John asked her.
"And for God's sake, keep Zack away from that crazy on the
corner."
-end-
Copyright (c) 1993 Del Freeman