Big John Hudson walked through the front door of the diner and quietly took his seat at the round oak table, where most of the other members of the Circular Congregation Breakfast Club had already assembled for their morning repast and reflection. Usually, Big John entered the diner with a dramatic burst of energy and grandiosity, which was followed by a peculiar statement of questionable repute, punctuated by the enthusiastically hurling of his ball cap onto the center of the table – all for the general purposes of stirring something up.

This morning was different. John quietly entered the room and unceremoniously took his place at the last remaining chair at the table. John’s entrance was so low key that none of the other members of the Congregation knew he had even arrived – that is, until Harrison Winkle looked up from his seaweed wrapped, egg white, breakfast burrito (lately, Harry has been on several fad breakfast diets — and feels good about only gaining three more pounds and a mild rash).

“Who died?” Harry asked, as he took a hesitant bite from his ferociously tasteless meal.

Big John was dressed in blue Docker slacks (with that horrendously ugly front pleat) and his cleanest and least wrinkled button down shirt (keeping in mind that “clean”, “unwrinkled”, and “button down” are not common ensemble items in John’s wardrobe).

“Nobody, yet,” responded John, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone.

John’s response was so atypically inaudible that Tommy Jones, the Octogenarian senior member of the group, looked up from his Belgium waffle to see who had responded. “Someone getting married?” asked Tommy, as he studied Big John’s new appearance.

“No one I know,” John answered with just a hint of uneasiness in his voice.

Big John Hudson was dressed neatly and a comb had found its way through his freshly washed, and recently barbered, mane. The group of men, sitting with John around the big circular table, had only seen him dressed at this level of respectability for either weddings or funerals – and he was claiming that neither one of them was going on.

“Are you going to court?” asked Jimmy. John has never had a reason to appear in court, either as the good guy or the bad guy, and Jimmy has always secretly wondered, “Why not?”

“No court, no wedding, no funeral,” John summarized the known information succinctly. It was the unknown information that was baffling the gathering around the table.

“Did you win that Clearing House sweepstakes whooptido and you’re getting your picture taken holding the big check?” asked Firewalker as he contemplated various ways of helping Big John spend his (hopefully) new-found riches – a trip to Belize was first on his list.

“That’s not real. Have you ever known anyone that won that thing?” challenged Harry, momentarily forgetting that the main topic of conversation was Big John Hudson’s new public image – reasonably clean and barely wrinkled.

“You got a date, young man?” asked Tommy Jones, certain he knew the answer. Everyone had heard about John’s lackluster reputation with the ladies — it wasn’t a big secret.

“Can’t be a date,” countered Harry. “It’s 6:30 in the morning – and it’s John.” A morning filled with tasteless food and decaffeinated coffee had punched huge holes in Harry’s conversational filtering system. “Must be a revival meeting.”

The thought of Big John going to church, first thing in the morning (or any other time, other than Easter and Christmas), was a little too off the mark for everyone else around the table. The consensus of opinion was that John was not dressed for church – they just couldn’t agree on what the actual reason might be.

“All your other clothes are dirty?”

“Time share presentation?”

“Walmart grand opening?”

John answered to the negative with each suggestion. What was once unknown, remained unknown.

Finally, Jimmy got a little tired of the game of twenty questions and flat-out asked him, “So what’s with the get-up?”

“I’ve got a job interview.”

All the other members of the Circular Congregation Breakfast Club looked at John, then at each other, and then back at John. Again, a consensus had been reached.

Jimmy spoke for everyone when he asked, “No. Really. What’s with the get-up?”

 

Read part two here.