Stopped for a bite to eat today at Casper's in Tea Party, Texas. I've never seen anything like it--Tea Party or Casper's. Although it was after 2, there were about 10 cars in the parking lot, and this at a place that didn't look like it could fit 10 people in it. The aroma of hamburgers, grilled onions, and something that I couldn't quite identify, but which smelled heavenly, enveloped me the moment I stepped out of the truck. The place was packed, but there was a seat at the counter.
I looked around and saw an interesting assortment of people in this odd little place--blue collar, white collar, and no collar. I sandwiched myself between a state trooper and a construction worker who was drenched with sweat. If he smelled, I couldn't tell because that previously unidentified scent was chili, and it was thick in the little dive. Thinking it might be a bit before I got service, I pulled out my copy of Cold Dish. But a woman--the owner, as I later discovered--put a glass of water in front of me within a minute.
"What would you like?" she asked.
"I don't suppose you have anything low calorie."
"Water. Now, what would you like?" She gave me friendly smile to take the bite out of her words.
"Well, then," a brief hesitation, "I'll have what he's having," I responded, and pointed to the State Trooper's bowl of heartburn topped with cheese and onions, a burger (with a light sheen of grease on the bun), and a chocolate shake. I decided I'd go low cal tomorrow. First thing in the morning.
"What's that book you have there?" asked the state trooper.
I put my hand on the worn cover, suppressing the urge to stroke it. "Cold Dish by Craig Johnson.
"Why, so it is. I'm listening to it now."
"Me too. I'm driving to Wyoming and am listening to it on the way. Greatest narrator ever. I just didn't want to listen to it in here. Kind of rude, you know?"
He nodded. "What's in Wyoming?"
"A friend." I wasn't about to tell him what this trip was really about. Belinda, the owner, placed my lunch in front of me. I didn't know where to begin.
"Say, have you gotten to the part where he meets Vonnie? She seems like the perfect match for Sheriff Longmire."
I tried to keep from glowering, for Walt had just had his first date in four years. With Vonnie. This worried me. She's a nice woman, and I don't want to interfere, but still.
He continued without me answering.
"Yep, he's quite the man," the trooper mused. "Strong, sensitive, rugged. And smart. Wish I was more like him. And his friend, Henry Standing Bear. He knows everything about everything. Did you know he won't use contractions? Don't know why. And he surely knows his wines. Yep. I envy the both of them." The trooper shook his head, a touch of regret deepening the creases around his eyes.
"Bill--are you still going on about Sheriff Longmire?" Belinda asked. "For heaven's sake, he's a fiction. He doesn't exist."
"I know, Belinda, but it's like he's real."
"Get ahold of yourself, Bill. You haven't quit taking your meds, have you?"
He laughed and looked at me. "Belinda's such a kidder. I know he's not real. But a guy can aspire, can't he?"
Yes, I thought to myself. So can I.
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