End Cut

When I was little my father would take us every Saturday night to the Coach House Diner on Route 4 in Hackensack. Based on the salad bar alone it had to be the fanciest restaurant in Bergen County. I have such fond memories of waiting at the table, guarding my mother's pocketbook, while my parents built the foundation of their perfect dinner at that salad bar. In my father's case, that foundation was made of iceberg, bacon bits and ranch dressing. After his salad, my dad would eat an end cut of prime rib while chain smoking Moore Green cigarettes. He made it to the ripe old age of 61 before dying of a stroke, but that's not the point of this story.

On our weekly trip, my father would always ask to sit in Grace's station. Grace was a sweet waitress who for some reason was really nice to my family in spite of Sybil sending half her food back every week because, well, because. Grace would always give us little extras like appetizers and free desserts to take home, and in kind, my father would leave her a decent tip. It was an understood relationship to everyone. I was a child and even I got it. Well I assumed everyone got it.

One Saturday we went to eat and Grace had the night off. We all ordered our usual and proceeded to eat our trash can salads while my mother regaled us with stories of how her first husband bought her a fur coat and treated her nice until the waitress came over to check on us.

Waitress: How is everything?

Sybil: Where are our appetizers?

Waitress: I'm sorry. You didn't order any.

Sybil: I know that. They are always given to us for free.

Waitress: I'm a bit confused. We don..

Sybil (interrupting): Send over the manager.

Manager: Hi, how are you?

Sybil: Grace always gives us free appetizers and packs us up a dessert bag to go. Where are they?

Recognizing Sybil was about to cause a huge scene, the manager offered up some potato skins. Sybil just fed Grace to the wolves for more bacon bits. Damn, my parents loved those things.

The next time we went in, Grace explained to Sybil how she got her in trouble and that she gives us the free food because she likes us and the owner doesn't know. Sybil just looked at her and said, "How was I supposed to know that?"

Two weeks later Grace had the night off again. This time the fight ended with free mozzarella sticks.. I have no memory of seeing Grace after that. Thankfully we still had Friday night dinners at Charlie Brown's.