Cafe Society

Nothing Could Be Finer

Page 4 of 4

Which, of course, is how I ended up having my third chicken-fried steak in 24 hours at Davies Chuck Wagon, how I ended up thinking about heaven and Richard Dreyfuss and silver Thunderbirds. There just aren't many spots like Davies left, not many spots that look like this, that smell like this, that leave you crushed right up against life like this. Behind me, the Jesus girls are packing up. The waitress presses back against the dull silver wall to let them pass. There's already another party waiting for their table, and more at the door. I cut another bite of my chicken-fried steak and shove it into my mouth just because I can, and because if it does kill me, at least I won't have far to go to get to heaven.

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Jason Sheehan
Contact: Jason Sheehan