Superfluous

For six years, give or take a bit, I went every Saturday night to run the cash register at the Star Cafe, a steak, hamburger, and chicken-fried place owned by my good friends Betty and Don. I rolled silverware, seated people, poured water and tea, and generally made myself helpful. At the end of the evening I enjoyed a quiet glass of wine and dinner with Betty and Don. When there was talk of selling the restaurant, I almost panicked--what would I do with my Saturday nights? And then a couple of years ago, almost suddenly, I'd had enough. I had plenty to do at home, friends to go to dinner with, etc., and I was tired of it, which makes me sound frivolous or something, but . . . . Tonight I went back. Don has been bitten by the fly-fishing bug and is in Oklahoma for a class. Betty was afraid they'd be busy and overwhelmed and asked me to go, which of course I willingly did. She called about 5 p.m. and said she was coming to get me earlier because they were slammed and just seated a party of 30. So I jumped into jeans and tenners and was ready and waiting when she pulled up. But the Star had calmed down. I poured some tea and water, sold two beers (and earned a dollar, which come to think of it is still in my jeans), and rolled one tray of silverware. But mostly I sat around staring into space while Betty seated people and visited with guests. I talked a bit with a couple of the wait staff and greeted a guest I used to visit with, but bottom line is I was bored. Betty asked jokingly, "Do you feel superflous?" and I did. I couldn't remember how to run the cash register--it's a new one since my days, wasn't sure which beer was where, couldn't find the right glasses for sweetened tea and plain tea. In short I was a fish out of water. About 7:15 Betty asked if I wanted her to run me home, and I said yes, if she could spare me. She could. So I took a half order of chicken fingers and a bit of mashed potatoes and came home--gratefully. I think part of it was that I have been sort of out of sorts all day--one of those days when you don't feel wrapped right. Nothing in particular, just didn't have that sense of well being. But part of it was that I was superfluous.
Sometimes communication with grandchildren is difficult. When I called Houston tonight, two-year-old Morgan answered with "Hi, Juju!"
Me: Hi, Morgan. How are you?
Morgan: I have a rash, Juju.
Me: That's nice, darlin'. What did you do today?
Morgan: It's ringworm.
Me: Oh, you did? Was it fun?
Her mother was laughing a lot when she got on the phone, but in my own defense, it's only partly my hearing. Morgan is a precocious child but she doesn't exactly speak clearly on the phone.
Jacob and his dad came for dinner last night, and I splurged and got a gorgeous ribeye steak from Central Market, along with two twice-baked potatoes. Jacob, the little glutton, ate a whole lot of mine. We had green beans with bacon (Christian's favorite) and a blue cheese salad. Jacob managed to say Juju once. But when he was told, "No, Jacob, don't throw your food on the floor," he took the next bite, held it in the air away from his chair, and studied me to see how serious I was abut this. Of course, he had a huge grin on his face. Jordan and Christian have interesting times ahead with that child!
Jordan is back tonight from a four-day "fam" trip (familiarizing travel agents with resort properties in Mexico) and she reports that Jacob was very glad to see her, and it was most mutual!
I started the new Dick Francis novel last night, and now it's calling to me.