Fayze's Of Downtown La Crosse

As I wrap my apron around my gurgling stomach, urning for breakfast myself, I am eager to make some fast cash for the week, and to come and serve the ever so hungry city of La Crosse. The first table I attend to is already whispering about what might fancy their taste buds. I greet them with a chipper hello, and offer our unique specials. An elderly man sitting at the table grumbles for some coffee, and the elderly woman ever so rudely says "tea for me". I nod my head and walk back to the clubhouse to do what they say. I pour the blistering hot coffee from the urn and run the steaming hot water for the tea. As I carry these two beverages on a small thin tray, other servers brush by me in a hurry to please their grateful and sometimes ungrateful customers. As I arrive back at the table, the old woman says "we will have our usual, and oh, by the way, split the order please." I timidly take the now useless menus from their hands and thank them for their order. When I turn my back, I can hear them placing their silver wear out in a distinct pattern and mumbling about the same complaints they had last week about their day as a retired couple. As I walked back to the computer in order to place their orders, I then realized that I not only got their order, but I also got a sense of exactly what I don't want to be like when I get old. If any one is reading this, hold me true to thy word.