I had been enjoying my two-day stay in Milwaukee, home to a fabulous blue-collar, working-town, no-apologies attitude. There’s a blue-collar restaurant next to my motel called the Country Spring Restaurant. This one, like many other blue-collar restaurants, strikes me as having been at one time a serve-yourself cafeteria. I sit down in a booth and decide to splurge on a steak dinner. (Hey, it was only $11 and worth every penny!)

 

With the dinner came a small bowl of vegetables. I tried eating them. I really did. Honest! But I ended up pushing the bowl, still full, to the other side of the table. Just as I finished my meal, Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress comes over.

 

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: How was it?

   Me: ’S great!

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: Anything else?

   Me: Love a piece of cherry pie.

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: Pie?

   Me: Yeah!

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: You want pie?

   Me: Uh … yeah …

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: (Firm gaze, left hand on hip, right hand on table, head cocked to her right) Mmm … didja eat your vegetables?

   Me: (Proud of myself) Yeah! (Less proud) Well … sort of …

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: (Raises eyebrows) Yeah-well-sort of?

   Me: (Back to being proud) Yeah! Ate a slice of carrot and one of those green things.

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: A slice of carrot and one of those green things.

   Me: (Really proud of myself now) Yeah!

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: And for that you want pie?

   Me: (Getting less and less proud and nervous) Uh, well, you know, I just thought that … you know ….

   Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress: Hmmm. (Firmly puts the bowl of vegetables back in front of me) Eat your vegetables then we’ll talk about pie. (She walks away)

 

I look down at that small bowl of vegetables. I cover them with salt. I cover them with ketchup. I start getting visions of Armageddon. I take a big breath for courage. Another courage-breath. And another one. I close my eyes and wince.

 

I eat them. I actually eat my vegetables, begrudgingly, and it takes only 20 minutes. I finally get my cherry pie, which I eat enthusiastically. Then, without even asking, Sandy the Blue-Collar Waitress brings me a second piece and doesn’t charge me for it. Hands down, she gets my vote for Waitress-Mom of the Year.