this time he really let go….nothing held the old man back….he had something to say, I don’t know what day it is….or month…or year…but I know that’s not what I ordered….

the young lady….thick orange foundation on a white pimply face just stood there in silence…

Where’s the au jus?….you know…the beef drippings….his thin lips quivering, well…what’d you say…this ain’t no French Dip..

Sir, tray placed under arm, that is a French Dip…do you want au jus? …I can bring you au jus, an Indiana twang made it sound anti-Semetic..

No…just keep it…I’m not paying for that…not what I ordered…the jus is what makes it a Dip…there shouldn’t be an option..

Fine, walking-off in a puff…the old man just turned away in the booth…watching trucks pull-up and leave…

tea was drunk..time was passed and a country song played on the radio

tables were wiped down around us…no-one coming near..there was always a distance with dad….

what did I order?, he asked, we did order didn’t we?….he started to raise a hand.. attempting to flag down a waitress…

yeah pop we did, grabbing his arm and placing it on the table and letting go…it was time to let go…just let go..

well I wish to hell they’d hurry up and bring it…