BREAKFAST IN AMERICA 

6/5/2021  

At the end of the 70’s, music continued to be unleashed upon the shores of England’s former colony, enemy, and now ally: the United States of Ha-merica. Well into the second decade of the British Invasion, the airwaves reverberated with musical notes and lyrics of our European roots. With the song, TAKE THE LONG WAY HOME, by Supertramp, an avoidance of marriage permeated the hard-core drinkers of the 20-something crowd and lead to road trips to foreign lands (the next county over). With their girlfriends in body asset overdrive, conflicts occasionally escalated. On rare instances, a 6-pack of male marauders headed out to the bars to see what lay beyond their closing worlds. The answer was: not much, as the venom of vaginal restraints dulled the adventurous brain cells. After hitting 4 watering holes with no excitement, it was off to the chain restaurants who thought it was a good idea to get some eggs, toast, and coffee into an armada of inebriated idiots. With all the tables full, the long counter served its purpose as a trough and all the pigs placed their orders. As the food came, 1 of the road trip gang was sitting next to a local couple who also had their fill of firewater. The female started the conversation with, “whir r U giezzs frum?” It was instantly recognized the poor girl was a cleft lip victim and that fact awoke the compassion of the group: NOT! Unaware if anybody in the crowd had caused trouble that night, it was standard protocol to lie about their origin and merely pick a town in a neighboring state. “We’re from Escanaba” was the reply. “EZZKANABBA?” “Eem from EZZKANABBA!” was the loud reply. Just then the food started flying out of mouths everywhere as the airways were cleared to allow insane laughter. Eggs ejected, toast hit transonic speeds and coffee was vaporized in the atmosphere. Seven drunken dudes hit the counter with tears in their eyes, including the harelip’s boyfriend. Some memories are best entrenched in ethanol.

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