It was late. The time a healthy person wouldn't eat. Let alone be awake. But he had slept all day and had nothing more than two slices of

toast

with

peanut butter

rubbed onto them. As soon as he stepped out into the thick summer air the scent of alcoholics' breath, cheap

cigarette

smoke, and even cheaper

perfume

wafted into his nostrils and soon his belly beckoned him to fill it.

There was only one place he wanted to go. His feet were already moving, taking steps, towards the destination even before his mind had fully made the decision. Macy's Diner.

It was good to get out of the office for this precise reason. Confined in a room you get to thinking you know it all. You begin to scheme. Trying to figure out "the perfect" thing to do. And you scheme and scheme until you look up at the clock and realize the day is over... or in his case, the night.

You had to leave your indoor space. Get outside and on your feet. And then the right decisions would just come and hit you without you having to do any master planning at all. Things just worked. Like just now, when as soon as he was outside he was walking towards Macy's even before he knew he was going there.

Halfway there he thought about what he would get. His favorite. Same thing he ordered every time these days.

hashbrowns

with diced

onions

and bell pepper, fried

eggs

sunny side up

, and two pieces of

rye

toast.

There was once a time he'd try new things on the menu. But nothing ever made him glad that he had ordered something different. When he got something disappointing he'd lament about how he had wished he had gotten his usual. And when something did happen to turn out good, he'd be thinking "it's good... just like my usual. Dang i should've just gotten that!"

So why complicate things. Get the usual. Every waitress who worked nights knew that was his usual. Alongside a cup of caffeinated

coffee

. He'd often joke that they should give the order a more bespoke name. Instead of calling it hashbrowns with eggs and toast they could call it the Greco Special! But none of them seemed to agree that that would make a good name.

As soon as he entered the diner he knew something was off. He didn't recognize anybody there. Well he recognized the customers... the drunks who were passing out on the table and drooling. The night shift truckers. But the waitresses... or the single waitress who was working was someone new.

"Hi what could I get you?" she asked.

He was so used to saying "the yuge" that he didn't know how to respond. His tongue was tied. He just said one word. "coffee" and then after a moment added "for now."

"Decaf?"

He shook his head proudly. He wasn't going to drink decaf like some pussy! He quickly added, "no cream or sugar either."

She brought back his cup of coffee real quick. And by that time he knew how to order. He was ready to list out the order item by item rather than saying "the yuge" or even better "The Greco".

"I'll have the hash--"

Abruptly he stopped himself.

"Give me The Greco."

"The Greco?"

"Yes. The Greco."

She stood there worrying. Wondering if she was not privy to something she ought to be. She took an uncomfortable amount of time before asking, "is that something we serve?"

"Why everybody here knows that that's the codename for hashbrowns --" he went off listing the order.

"Okay I'll have the hashbrowns with diced--" she went on listing the items... before realizing that her customer wanted it called something else and she corrected herself "I'll have the Gecko i mean ready for you soon."

"The Greco."

"What?"

"The Greco. Not the Gecko."

"Oh right."

She left in a hurry like he was about to explain the name. Which as soon as she was gone he felt the urge to. Damn her! he thought. Oh well, he'd tell her when she'd come to refill his coffee. That would be soon. He was drinking this coffee like a champ. Not that he needed it to stay awake. He was wide awake. More so that he was thirsty. He hadn't drunk any water in the past few hours and had been chain smoking cigarettes. A bad habit he'd picked up and nurtured while spending regular nights at the

office

... scheming. Always scheming that was his problem.

He took a swig of his coffee while reflecting on this. What possibly could he be scheming so much about in that second story office? What were his plans. What did he want? He couldn't even put a finger on it. Things were simpler when he was out and about. At the

diner

like right now. He could always know exactly what he wanted. Right now he wanted to drink this coffee. So he took a drink. Soon his food would arrive, that made him want it. But not yet. He wanted it to come out soon. So that his belly could wait in anticipation and his entire mouth could continue to salivate. If this waiting lasted too long then he would get angry, but just the right amount of time, and it'd make the meal all the better. The Greco. Damn didn't that have a good ring to it? he thought.

"More coffee, sir?"

"Why thank you."

She poured it with a firmer grip that he anticipated. Given her frail frame and her meek demeanor he had assumed a shaky wrist. But she was pouring out the pot like a champ. What a marvel he thought while observing her thin forearms. His eyes moved from the wrist to the forearms and then up to the shoulder and then her eyes caught him looking at her. She gave him a smile.

Wow this waitress was young! and pretty! It was nice to have a pretty waitress for once. Not that he had ever complained before about the usual wait staff here at Macy's. But he had never known what it's like to have a young, hot waitress!

He tried to give a suave smile, and he took out a cigarette in the coolest form he could think about. Smooth like he was some character in a

beatnik

styled film. And he lit up. Coffee and cigarettes. Who was cooler than that? Nobody.

"You're meal The Greco... will be out in just a minute." 

She remembered the name he thought, elated. He smoked another drag, a deep one that burned his throat and lungs. But it felt so good. He took a drag so deep it reminded him of the first puff he took as a highschool kid when he almost fell over because it made his head dizzy. Damn, he thought to himself. Tonight was turning out to be a good night he thought. Fuck the client work that was due soon! He would just tell them some excuse about why it couldn't be done in time. What that excuse was. He had no clue. But he knew that he was enjoying his night here. A cigarette. Some coffee. And a nice plate of greasy diner food. You couldn't go wrong with--

"Excuse me," a drunk barely mumbled.

"Yes?"

"Could I trouble you. For a cig?"

Usually he'd tell drunks like this guy to fuck off, but he was feeling generous.

"Sure thing." he gave him the cigarette and then added "and it's no trouble." he even lit it for him with his fancy lighter, the drunk leaning in towards him. "enjoy."

"Thank you, sir! thank you!"

After the man left the diner and he wondered if he had ever been inside the diner eating at all. He couldn't remember seeing him upon entrance. Maybe he had been in the bathroom? he thought. And that's when he saw the waitress coming out with his food.

He wolfed it down like a famished hog while gargling it together with another refill of hot coffee. The Greco. 

And then he left a 50% tip on the table. Said goodbye to the girl. And left before she could see it and tell him that that was too much.

As soon as he got out the door he looked for signs of what the time was. Had the night passed to the point where it was almost morning? You could never tell in the night as you could during the day. There was no sign of when night became more night. It just all felt the same throughout until one moment suddenly it was morning. And then the unshakable sadness of having squandered another night would seep into his soul.

Tonight would be a waste to spend on working however. He was going to return to the office and send Vicky home. Then he'd go out to the bars and get drunk. Maybe he'd pick up a girl. Who knew. The night was young. His belly was full. And he was on a mission. Find out who had called him with that ominous message.