Toad Lick, TX. Pt 4

Part IV
Oh, I started out saying that Leon was a former truck driver. Well he’s a former driver because his old boss, from the incident just related, Bill Davis, who owns a pretty big feed and seed, and ranch supply store here, also comes into the coffee shop. It seems when Sam came in that night, he got an earful from Maria. Sam told me that he’d talked to Leon before about his lack of cleanliness, and that he’d probably let him go this time. After talking with Leon about it, next day, then getting yelled at by Ramona, Sam decided to let Leon go. None of the other trucking companies would hire him. They’d all heard how he is, so he’s retired now, on his and Ramona’s Social Security, and her retirement from the school district. They’re doing OK. Except he has a lot more time to come into the coffee-shop now. I tell Maria she ought to hire him as a dishwasher, and Ramona as a waitress. She throws plastic glasses at me.
Another guy that comes in there just about three times a day, like clockwork is Ronnie Fears. Ronnie’s about the same age as Dave and I. He was a year ahead of us in high-school, I think. We didn’t hang out in the same circles back then, so I don’t really remember for sure. He has a brother, not a twin, named Lonnie. Lonnie pretty much is gone. I think he lives up in the city. I’ll have to ask Ronnie. When Dave and I went into the Army, Ronnie joined the Marines.
Ronnie wasn’t a Marine long. He made it just about through Boot-Camp, then had a heart attack. Anyway, I know that he was in a Navy hospital for about 3 or 4 months, then got a medical discharge, with GI benefits. 100% military disability. Six months and a day, total time in Service. He hasn’t worked much since then. Nowadays, he has a spiffy new pace-maker the VA gave him. He lives on his disability, and money he earns by screen-printing T-shirts. Other than that he sits in the coffee-shop, or takes naps, pretty much. Ronnie looks remarkably like the kid who played Eddie Munster, when he was in his costume and make-up. We call him “Wolf-boy,” behind his back. He likes to “flirt” with the waitresses by trying to grab a boob, or pinching their butts, and one time he tried that with Maria. She was coming from the back of the restaurant, carrying an empty tray that she’d used to deliver some food, and Ronnie grabbed her, thought he’d get a little pinch. She turned, and with a full back-hand swing that would have made Billie-Jean King proud, hit him square in the side of the head. Sent him flying! Him, his chair, and his coffee cup. Everyone in the place cheered Maria. She looked over at me and shrugging said, “Well he shouldn’t have pinched me.” Then she laughed and went back into the kitchen. He hasn’t tried it again with her. While everyone else was laughing, Ronnie lay on the floor, coffee cup upright, sitting on his chest. As he got up, he said, “Look at that Boo, I didn’t spill a drop.” To his credit, though, he started laughing about it too. “Did you see the wallop she gave me?” “Yep Ronnie, I sure did. Ronnie, I’ve told you before that you can’t just go and be grabbing, or pinching Maria, or her waitresses, or anyone else for that matter.” “ I know, but I just can’t help it.” I told him he’d better start helping it, because someday one of them will file a complaint, then I’ll have to get involved. He’s usually very careful not to do this when I can see him. I ask the girls from time to time if he’s still doing it, they all say “Yes, but I can handle him.” It worries me, though. Sometimes this behavior can escalate into something much worse. I don’t want that to happen, so I let him know I’m watching him. Believe it or not, he actually has a girl-friend. He tells the other women around that he’s only with her because they had a baby last year. The other ladies all wonder why she’s with him!
Then there’s Raji. I can’t pronounce his last name, but he does have one. He tried teaching Dave and I how to say it, but it didn’t work, so we just call him Raji Huh? He’s around 5’8”, owns a local convenience store, is very proud to have become an American citizen, and has a son on our basketball team in High-School. One day Raji was telling me about Indian Curried Rice. He was saying the “real thing” is so much better than the stuff you get in restaurants, or out of the box from the local grocery store. I agreed that this was probably so, based on the knowledge that my own Tex-Mex is SO much better than the stuff you can go out and buy, but I’d never had any Indian food before, let alone Curried Rice! Raji invited me over for dinner for that next Saturday night, to try some of it out. I came over to his house, and he took me into the kitchen, and showed me how he makes it, with a pan that looks something like a wok, and Saffron, and peppers, and it smelled pretty good! In fact, by the time we got around to eating, I was more than ready. Let me tell you, folks, chili ain’t got nothing on that stuff for pure, curl-your-toes HOT! It was really good, and I kinda gulped a couple of bites down, Raji smiling the whole time. He looked at his wife, and said, “Get Boo a glass of water, quick.” I wondered, momentarily, why he’d said that, but then I notice my tongue beginning to burn, then I began to feel awfully warm, and the bald spot on the top of my head started sweating. (This is never a good sign, folks. It indicates, rather well, that I just indulged in something way too hot.) Sure enough I really needed, and appreciated, that glass of water and the next two, before I got my breath back, and the fire went down to tolerable in my mouth, throat, esophagus, stomach and bald-spot. Raji explained to me that this must be eaten carefully, and in small amounts until you’re used to it. I appreciated the early warning and told him it might have come a little earlier. He, his wife, and their son thought this was very amusing. I’m glad I could be of service to them. Actually though, once I got over the shock, it WAS very good. The meal was a pleasure, and the company was great.
I got tickled at Raji, and his son. Although Raji is an American now, he was raised in India, and has pretty traditional Indian values and so does his wife, but his son is a born and raised Texas Redneck kid, and he lets them know about it, too! They were talking, and Raji mentioned something about an arranged marriage for his son, and having him go back to India to meet his bride and her family, then have a traditional wedding there. His boy, Davram, everyone calls him Davey, was adamant that no-one was going to pick out his wife for him, and that he wasn’t about to get married before he went to college, and maybe not till he was in the NBA. Davey wants to be a big basketball star. He may just do it to, I’ve seen the kid burn up the court, and he has the size. Anyway, while they were “discussing” this I decided it was time for my leavetaking, and courteously made my way to the door.
©F.Pierce