Hello

Hello!

“Welcome to the grand opening of the Alcatraz Dinner. First meals and last meals are 20% off today. Well, actually today and until the grand opening is over; who knows when that might me. My name is Fonz, and I’ll be your server. Please this way; now sit. Best seat in the house.

Would you like sometime to look at the menu or do you know what you don’t want to have, and would prefer to think only about what you might consider ordering? Some people put fate to the wind and forget their doctors orders and just live as if there will be no tomorrow. And one day that will be true. Are you one of those types by chance?

Oh, almost forgot, I’m supposed to ask if this is your first meal or last meal? Why, I don’t know. I can only speculate that it’s George’s way of adding a little prison humor to the atmosphere. If you need more time I’ll come back.

But before I forget, what do you think of the motif? George thought going with the prison look would give the place the authenticity most people don’t want access to. I’m not saying the food is anything like prison food, but it is a work in progress as George has pointed out to me on several occasions.

So, is this your first meal, or last? George would like to know. And I know that what George wants, George gets. I learned that on my first day working here, which was yesterday. We just opened you see. Not that the planning for this… George says to call it a break out business, opening hasn’t been in the works for quite some time. George started talking about it right after he went in. So it’s been about five years now. You was probably thinking a lot longer cause of all the details, bars on the windows and door, bare light bulbs, high ceilings, small windows. The health department said the toilets had to stay in rooms by themselves if sanitary and regulatory standards are to be met. George reluctantly agreed, but he was able to convince them that handcuffing the patrons to the tables until they paid was allowable. George can be quite convincing when he puts his mind to it.

You figured out if this is your last or first meal yet? George would surely like to know. You see it goes with the general theme of things. You ever see that movie, The Green Mile? It’s about prison but leaves out all the good stuff about food and concentrates on some guy who breathes out flies when he needs to. I missed a good part of it cause I got called out because a visitor showed up unexpected. It weren’t nothing of importance, just some Sheriff from down home wanting to know if I’d talked to my mother lately. I told him that would be difficult being that she died supposedly about six years ago. I don’t know if he believed me or not, and I don’t really care. I never liked that Sheriff much; he was riding me since I was in kindergarten about one thing or another. I sometimes wonder if me having all the troubles with the law isn’t really his fault.

So, what about it; first or last?

I know it ain’t easy sometimes remembering when you ate last and what time of day it was, cause that makes a difference when considering the answer to the question. I myself don’t eat breakfast and most times skip lunch, depending on what they is serving and what I got to do for the rest of the day. When we was planning our first escape we laid off the carbs; they tend to slow you down considerable. But I can tell you, trying to survive on carrots and lettuce, you is going to forget all about going anywhere cause you is too weak to hardly breath. But enough about my eating protocols.

You know there was a guy in here last week, back before George took over and remodeled the place. He was asking the same kind of questions as you is thinking about asking. I think he was trying to get a feel for the ambiance we established. He didn’t get the first and last meal question though; throws a lot of people that never heard about death row. I could tell right off he hadn’t ever done no time in a place where the lights dim and the clocks quit working at ten O’clock.

He finally, after a little coaxing, said he hadn’t eaten breakfast in years, and lunch was usually so boring that he skipped that too. He said he preferred to nibble. I asked if he considered that brunch, cause we was thinking of adding it on the menu. And he said it depended if it was before or after lunch. I’d never thought of it in those terms, so I had to ask what the difference was. He said that it “depends on how much you ate and how much it cost.” His explanation didn’t make no sense to me, so I asked what he meant by how much you ate and what it cost? He explained that if it cost a lot and you ate a little it was probably brunch. Brunch he said costs more than lunch cause you is paying for the Laze fair attitude that comes with it and… I decided to change the subject.

So, what you having?”

“Do you have menus?”

“Do we have menus? What you think that is there on the napkin right under your fork and spoon? That my good man is part of George’s particularizing when it comes to ambiance. In the joint we didn’t have no menus; you got whatever they give you and liked it. Well, you didn’t actually have to like it. You could decide not to eat it, but then if the word got out you didn’t like what Shorty and his boys was making in the kitchen, you might get a visit from Shorty after hours, and he’d make you plan the menu for the following day. Now most of us ain’t had much reason to be in a kitchen, so coming up with something everyone would like was near impossible. It happened to me once. I went with my old favorites, chicken salad, and fruited Jell-O, with orange peel frosting. You’d think I’d served up poison. I guess not everyone was lucky enough to grow up in Mississippi.

And if you is wondering about why there ain’t no knife, don’t. George thought it added another small bit of authentic to the dining experience. We weren’t allowed to have knives when we on the inside.

Anyway, I can tell by the way George is waving that spatula around, that you’d better order something so he has something to do, or he’s going to come out here and have a talk with you. The problem with talking to George is that he don’t pronunciate well, so understanding him is difficult till you been around him a few years.

You ever see that show from a ways back, Mr. Ed, about a talking horse? Anyway, it was George’s favorite show growing up; he still watches reruns when he can find them. What I’m getting at is, he sounds like Mr. Ed just not as sophisticated. You’d better order, he switched the spatula to the other hand and that means he’s about out of patience.

It don’t really matter what you order, as long as you order something and pay for it. You don’t have to eat it if you ain’t hungry. Jiménez, the dishwasher, he gets first crack at what people don’t eat, and then he tells George how maybe it could be improved. Jiménez owned a restaurant in Cuba before the revolution. He’s big on peppers and guava. I know he don’t look as old as he is, but he can still eat, and he knows what he’s talking about; at least George thinks so, and that’s what counts.

Is there anything you’d like to tell me before George comes over here to see what the problem is? I know he looks mean, but that’s just the way he looks; don’t pay no attention. He’s really a nice guy once you get to know him.

You know, I never asked you what you do for a living? Some people feel more at home when other people know what they do. I made license plates. George would tell you he was in the laundry business. How about you? You look like a used car salesman or an insurance agent. Am I close?”

“Look, what’s your name?”

“Herman.”

“Well Herman, I just came in to see if you would happen to have change for a dollar, the parking meters here don’t take credit cards. When you told me to sit down and then put the cuffs on, I thought you were just attempting to be funny. I had no idea this was a restaurant.”

“You didn’t see the sign I made for the door? It says Alcatraz Dinner, big as life! Can you read?I don’t mean to offend you but I don’t see how you could have come in through the front door and not seen the sign.”

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what?”

“I didn’t come in the front; I came in the back. The only sign I saw, said exit.”

“You came in the exit door?”

“I’d never seen an exit door that didn’t have a entrance.”

“You could be right about that, but it’s still against Alcatraz policy to be coming when you is supposed to be going. Next time, use the front door so you can see the sign. And we don’t keep no change, bills only. You can’t use the restroom either unless you buy something and answer a few questions; understand? OH, OH, here comes George.

George, this is…I forgot his name. He wanted to talk to you about parking validation if he eats here. I don’t know that we talked about that, but then we are just getting started. He says he’s a …I forget what he said, but he needs change until we come up with a policy about parking validation. I myself had never thought about parking. I’m sure you did, but with the opening goins on and all, you had a lot on your mind. I was going to give him a quarter out of my own pocket if he promises not to come back until we get the parking thing figured out. What do you think?”

“I’m going home for lunch, be back in an hour, maybe two. We’ll talk about validating when I get back.”

“George is usually friendlier than that. Being cooped up and unable to express yourself does that to you. It didn’t affect me as much. When I was younger I learned to talk to myself; answer and everything. You ever learn to do that?”

“Back in your cells! Lights out in five.”

“Don’t pay no attention to that. George thinks it adds to the feel of the place. I happen to agree, but I’m sure there are those who don’t. If you meet any of them tell em not to come in here, George don’t like that type of person butting in to business he don’t know nothing about. Promise? You know it took me most of yesterday to keep from turning off the lights every time that guy that sounds like…you know that guy, the Miss Daisy guy.

Oh Yah, and don’t forget, you owe me a quarter no matter what time it is.”