Gosia and I enjoyed a last lunch yesterday at the Greenville, NH country diner called Marcus Pi. The waitress warned us we would have a long wait to be served and long time to get our food because she had only one cook that day. It was a pleasant cafe with a clean bathroom decorated for Christmas, ancient plank floors, and a non-working potbelly stove like cracker-barrel stores once had. The place was busy, and we did not mind the wait. It was our last hours of free time before the trip through Canada.
The phone rang in an adjacent booth, and a young man answered.
“No, you can’t use my chainsaw,” he said. “My old roommate stole it and sold it to buy drugs.”
There was a pause, and he continued. “Yeah, that’s right. No more chainsaw. But what do you expect when you let Just Anybody into your house?”
In time, the waitress took our order for chicken croquettes after giving us a list of all the meals the cafe was out of.
We usually don’t eat fried foods but chicken croquettes headed the list of what remained.
We have to admit, the meal was delicious. And there was so much food, we boxed half and ate it for supper at the Airb&b cottage.
Time for our flight soon to Dayton. 72 hours until we are on the road to Alaska through Canada.