Over Easy

I want to eat breakfast at one of those dumpy diners you see in black and white photos or movies from the 1930’s and 40’s. I want to watch a cook in a stained apron and cockeyed paper hat fry me three eggs and hash brown potatoes in glistening bacon grease and then slap the full heavy white plate down in front of me with a smirk when he’s done. Maybe he’ll even say something James Cagney’esque like “Enjoy it, bud.” The two guys sitting next to me, workers in overalls or guys in snappy suits a...