[Kings Waffle] Chapter 15: Kelli Week
The retail store I worked at closed at 9 PM. On an ideal shift, when no one was being difficult, I was out of there at 10. I could be at Kings Waffle with a fresh pack of Camels and warm coffee by 10:20. After the post-amusement park rush died down, I could then order some food and talk with Kelli. That is, only if it was "Kelli Week."
A Kelli Week was an every other run of 7 days when one of our favorite servers would be scheduled around her other job. Ceremonially, it began with a third shift chant of “Kelli week, Kelli week, Kelli week” upon the arrival of myself, "The Mayor," and "The Supreme Chancellor."
I’m not trying to play favorites, but if there’s any friend/employee who I’ve enjoyed talking with most over my years at the low counter and on the stoop, it’s Kelli. And that’s what we found ourselves doing once more, years later, outside of Kings Waffle. The place is still closed, the rumors of its demise* still abound, and yet the two of us are here anyways sitting in lawn chairs outside of the shuttered restaurant. Kelli is even still in uniform, having just come off shit from another location that she was kind enough to bring me some sweet tea from.
We get caught up on our respective lives, the lives of our mutual friends, and the usual low counter gossip—who’s moved on, who’s passed away, who still comes around, who we haven’t seen in years, etc. We enter into a long conversation about how one grows in life and navigates their personal path. This conversation, like so many others over the years, follows the usual format—we started off lighthearted and eventually moved to topics more serious or complex. Kelli is someone I’ve opened up to more than most in this world north of I-275 over the years, especially when I was making those usual post-work late night runs described at this post’s opening.
Now, falling back into the usual conversational rhythm, I hold off on going too far into my own life and the complexities surrounding it. I’ve had, and still have, every single day to worry about that—what I don’t always have is the opportunity to be at Kings Waffle with someone who's not blood, but very much family. So I try to simply listen, as Kelli did so many times for me over the years and as is tradition: what Kelli has to say firmly resonates.
Another regular shows up—not someone I know personally, but someone Kelli does. He asks whether or not Kings Waffle will reopen in this new era of post-pandemic restrictions just like all the other area locations did. Neither of us know for sure.*
Whether it does or not, that won’t diminish my desire to keep in touch, and keep talking with Kelli. Selfishly, I’ll probably need her to listen again one day as I continue navigating life. She’s truly one of the kindest humans I’ve ever known—someone who still operates on a “Kelli Week” schedule. Because, when she’s not serving up coffee or talking to folks like me, she’s devoting her time as a care worker in a group home—a person who’s always looking after others along her life’s journey.
—
Next Chapter: Chapter 16
Previous Chapter: The First Family
—
*At the time I wrote this chapter, the restaurant had been closed since mid-March due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. It's my understanding that as of this publishing—the place has reopened.