At the Eagle Cafe in Gallup

At the Eagle Cafe In Gallup

I was in the Eagle Cafe, in Gallup, downtown on old Route 66, a place where locals hang out. I mentioned it in my last blog. They have terrific lamb stew. An old man, an Indian, came in and sat in the booth next to mine. As it turned out, we sat facing each other. His face was deeply creased, his eyes sunken. I put him to be well into his eighties. It was clear he had had too much to drink.

He also ordered the lamb stew. I thought his selection reinforced my own decision, you know, eat what the locals eat. I dug into my serving with relish. The lamb was falling-off-the-bone tender, the hominy savory and delicious, the onions and carrots a perfect accent. It was wonderful.
Suddenly the old man gave a shout. I think he could have been heard clear out on the street.
I was shocked, both by the volume and the occurrence. It turned out the old man felt his stew not edible. He complained that he didn't have any teeth and couldn't eat the stew without them. Shoving the plate away, in a show of disgust, he told the young woman serving us to just bring him some soup.

He then sat for awhile, toying with the food on his plate, eating some of the bread and slurping coffee. Then he sampled the mashed potatoes that came with the plate of stewed meat and vegetables, but with his fingers rather than his fork. I looked away in disgust and tried returning to my own tasty meal.

After a few minutes he again shouted out, this time demanding more coffee. The waitress told him she was helping other customers and he would have to wait. When she finished the other table, she brought his coffee, but not before he shouted his demands another time or two.
As she poured his coffee, she caught me watching. She rolled her eyes slightly and smiled. I smiled back and signaled for my check. When I paid her, I added a generous tip, in part to reward her patience with the old man in spite of his obnoxious behavior.
When I later thought about the whole event, I had quite a range of reactions, and my thoughts keep coming to mind, ergo this blog.

Clearly, the old man was rude and obnoxious. On the one hand, there was no excuse for his behavior. I've seen drunks thrown out of places before for behaving like that, and I was glad to see them go. On the other hand, the waitress handled the situation rather well, I thought. I don't know if she excused his behavior, but I think she understood him. I tried doing the same.
An old man should not be obnoxious, but shouldn't an old man be allowed to come into town once in awhile, even to get a little drunk? Who am I to judge? He was very old. He was Indian. Perhaps he carried memories of receiving worse consideration from others than he displayed. Perhaps it was that he harboured memories of injuries beyond his own personal experiences. Maybe he just felt resentment beyond his caring about others, and anger beyond his concerns for what they might do to him in return.

I could not respect his behavior. I'm not even sure I should respect the man. He may be a thorn in the lives of those around him all the time, and may have been that way all his life. In any case, I'm sure he'll inspire a character in my writing somewhere down the line, and I can’t wait to see that.

But I had respect for the waitress and the way she handled him. And for a little while, I thought I gained some perspective and a bit of understanding. I hope to hang onto that. In spite of his behavior, I did feel some respect for the old man, and a little more tolerance as well. And I did like the lamb stew at the Eagle Cafe in Gallup.