Steak House – Fiction Friday – If Walls Could Talk

I am a steak house and I am right across the parking lot from the I H O P. There isn’t much chance of real competition. She serves breakfast and I, being a manly man restaurant, sell meat.

When it gets right down to it, I doubt either one of us can be called healthy.

To draw the sporting crowd into my establishment they put in televisions with cable and they constantly have some sporting event playing where everyone has a good seat.

I am not really a dating sort of place but the pancake house across the way isn’t a dating place either. Can you imagine the walk of shame ending up across the aisle in the booth next to Mrs. R who cuts her coffee with hot water?

There is a room at the back of my building that not everyone knows about. It is posted as a conference room or a family room for larger groups with birthdays or meetings. Every Tuesday night there is a card game going on. Not high stakes, I am not even sure it is illegal so I don’t know why it is kept on such need to know status.

They serve beer here, wine and mixed drinks. Sometimes I think we border on bar and casino here.

When a dating couple comes here it is usually because the woman is trying to impress the fellow and only the most brain-dead guy is going to bring his date here. If we had a younger crowd, maybe then, the cheer leader types would almost be required.

The most exciting thing that has happened here, keep in mind me and the I H O P across the parking lot are only about ten years occupied. The most exciting thing was when a flat screen television came crashing down and wiped out two patrons in one fell swoop.

I am not laughing about this.

It was a horrid event.

The flat screens are as heavy as the old tube tv s and the way it fell onto the two guys was nothing short of unbelievable. The fallen tv struck one guy across his shoulder and at the same time came down with such focused force it nearly took off the other guy’s right hand.

The surgeons were not able to fix it. While he didn’t lose it, the hand was so badly damaged it sort of curled up on itself. He spent an unusual amount of time in the hospital then in physical therapy to become a south paw.

The place shut down for more than a week. During that time, the building underwent a steak house version of a colonoscopy. No one officially knows how that tv worked its way loose, it was never explained.

No one knew that one of the prep cooks who came in early actually climbed up on the bar and loosened it. I am not sure what the reason was, he loosened it and went on with his work.

It took well over two weeks for the thing to come undone. No one ever connected him to it.

It was never considered a crime and the fellow worked here another six months before quitting unexpectedly.

Insurance, thank goodness for insurance.

The lawsuit was settled out of court and the two guys who were bashed by the tv set were copiously compensated.

The guys have been in a few times but never as regularly as before. I think for the man who nearly lost his hand, coming in was like a form of therapy, returning to the scene of what he will never know was an actual crime.

It might be just as well these men don’t know. The fellow who loosened the screws certainly never could have compensated the men so well.

I would like to know the motivation behind it.

I like to think he supposed there would be no harm to anyone.

Is it Tuesday? Maybe the guy had bets on it. I never thought of that until just now.
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By Sally

Sally Franklin Christie Blogger and Author of If I Should Die and Milk Carton People.