FICTION: Los Locos Huevos By Penn Stewart

“Over easy,” he said.

“Gross. I can’t stand a runny yolk,” Lisa said.

“I love to dip my toast in it. It reminds me of when I was a kid.”

“Whatever. It’s still gross. You remember that scene in Rocky where he gulps down like four raw eggs? I about threw up when I saw that.”

Joey nodded.

“That movie was full of gross out moments, you know? I mean his face looked like raw hamburger at the end of that fight, and don’t even get me started on Burgess Meredith.”

The waitress returned and set down two cups in front of them and poured coffee.

“What wrong with Burgess Meredith?” he asked.

“Are you serious? He looked like a walking corpse.”

“Well he did die in that movie. Didn’t he?”

“Still gross,” she said.

“What about that other movie, Grumpy Old Men? You know where he’s making all of those sexual innuendos.”

“Oh my, God!”

“Come on, those island names were hilarious. Imakindakinky. Comeoniwannalaya.”

“Please. You’re going to ruin my appetite. I keep seeing a shriveled up old man coming at me with his arms out and a stupid grin on his face.”

“If he saw you I don’t think all of him would be shriveled,” Joey said.

“You’re sick. Now I have a worse image in my head: Burgess Meredith with a hard-on.”

The waitress returned again with two plates. “Egg white omelet?”

“That’s hers,” Joey said.

“And two eggs over easy with a side of toast and tater-tots. Anything else I can get for you?” the waitress asked.

“No we’re good,” Joey said.

They started to eat their breakfast, and a silence fell between them. Joey looked over his shoulder and saw a young girl spinning on a stool at the counter. She was wearing a white Easter dress and had pink ribbons in her hair. Her parents were sitting next to her, hunched over their menus. “She’s a cutie,” Joey said, nodding his head in the direction of the girl.

Lisa looked over a flashed a smile and then returned to her breakfast without comment.

“You ever think about kids?” he asked.

“Uh-uh,” she said and kept eating.

“Are you serious? You’ve got to be the only girl I’ve ever dated who didn’t.”

Lisa put her fork down and took a breath. “No use in pinning over what you can’t have.”

Joey’s fork stopped in mid-air with a dripping piece of egg on it.

“Well you don’t have to look at me like I’ve got a third eye or something,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I just—didn’t know. I mean—”

“It’s no big deal,” she said and picked up her fork and began to eat again.

“So— Never mind,” Joey said.

“You want to know why?” she asked.

Joey nodded, picking at his toast.

“Ovarian cysts. They found them when I was 16.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey said.

“It’s no big deal. I told you. That was like 10 years ago; I’ve gotten over it.”

Joey picked up his fork again and took another bite and then set it down and pushed his plate away. Lisa continued to eat her omelet. Joey looked at her and smiled as he listened to the squeaky stool. He picked up his coffee and cradled it in both hands.

The waitress came by and asked, “All done, hon’?”

Joey nodded. “Do you want anything else,” he asked Lisa. She shook her head.

He looked up at the waitress and said, “We’re done; you can bring me the check.”