Second Best

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Photo by Eeshan Garg on Unsplash

Under the sign that said “Chalkie’s” was an illuminated yellowing, bent sign with interchangeable letters.

For 17 years the sign said the same thing: 2nd Best Burgers in Town.

When Chalkie bought the place, his Uncle Mick still owned Rutherford’s Grill and Chalkie made the sign out of respect.

Even though Rutherford’s Grill was under new ownership, the sign was a thing now. People remembered Chalkie’s for it.

Chalkie had his back to the bar, commenting, colorfully on a boxing match in progress on the TV. He had spent some time at Kronk, in the golden years.

Shug and Twisty liked Chalkie’s commentary better than the actual match, laughing at Chalkie, who was a profanity thesaurus.

Shug noticed the newcomer first. Tall, red satiny jacket, looked like another bar’s jacket.

Shug was pretty sure the guy said “Hey!” to Chalkie’s back.

Shug managed an “Ummm…” before the guy barked “Hey!” at Chalkie again.

As Chalkie was turning, the guy leaned in and said “Gimmie two burgers, medium well, everything, extra tomatoes, and a shell of-”

“Kitchen’s closed,” Chalkie said.

The guy stood to his full height and folded his arms.

“What kinda shitty bar closes the kitchen at 8:15 on a Friday night?”

Chalkie sniffed, his nostrils flaring, shuddering, then he turned and walked to the other end of the bar, looked up at a different TV and resumed commenting on the fight.

Twisty beat Shug to standing and spoke as Shug groaned his way to a standing position.

“You from Ohio or somethin?” Twisty asked.

“Why?” the guy asked back, snarling.

“Because you ain’t from around here talking to Chalkie like that in his own bar.”

Shug stepped forward, hands out in a friendly, let me tell you something position.

“Holiday time, man, and we’re right across the freeway from public housing, and a whole row of run down shitholes.”

“A bunch of poor folk gonna come beat me up?”

Shug shook his head, almost sadly, wishing the guy would let him finish. Twisty had a gin elbow. He might swing.

“Naw, naw, naw, nothing like that man. A bunch of Lions football players brought turkeys to the neighborhood for Christmas, man, you know. Charity, goodwill. But they didn’t coordinate with the Pistons, with the basketball team, and they brought turkeys to the same people.”

Twisty nodded the whole time Shug was talking, like Shug was pulling a string. Now he spoke up.

“ Some of them families don’t even have working refrigerators man. Chalkie, out the goodness of his heart, he knew all those turkeys was fit’na go to waste. A lot of it anyway. So he let a bunch of the families pack their turkeys in his fridges and freezers, and that’s why he ain’t making burgers’.”

The guy looked at the two men, remained silent.

It seemed like he understood.

Twisty sat down and went back to watching the fight.

Shug watched the tall guy walk down to the end of the bar where Chalkie stood, spewing venom at a middleweight he didn’t like.

Shug tapped Twisty. 

“He’s gonna apologize.”

Twisty looked over.

“He better.”

The tall guy cleared his throat. 

“S’cuse me,” he said to Chalkie.

Chalkie turned around.

“The guys over there,” the guy said, “explained the situation.”

Chalkie refused to smile, but gave just a tiny nod of the head.

“Alright,” he said. “What can I get you?”

“A shell of Stroh’s…and two turkey sandwiches.”

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{ I threw in a little music Easter Egg for ya }