“It’s time for a break up,” Big John Hudson burst through the front door, threw his ball cap on the circular table occupying center stage at the diner — with the credibility of a fisherman describing the size of his catch — before calmly settling into his chair at the Circular Congregation Breakfast Club. “No woman is worth all this.”

Big John knows how to get the breakfast conversation started. Of course, anytime anyone walks into the middle of a bunch of guys, jaberjawing over coffee and pancakes while making a statement with any level of conviction, the opinions are going to fly like fertilizer from a manure spreader. This, being Saturday morning, the pace was much slower and the droppings were much deeper.

However, this time silence echoed through the diner like crickets in the back room of a bait shop.

“Breaking up, are ya’?” Tommy Jones finally said to break the silence. “Do you happen to know the girl?”

Tommy wasn’t trying to be rude or condescending. He was just surprised — as was everyone else at the table. None of the members of the breakfast club had ever seen John with a woman. He’s a good looking enough guy with a decent enough job, but his opening line is to shout, “Wow!” and then just stare at the young lady. In many ways, John is not a picky person, but even he couldn’t be part of a relationship with a woman that reacted positively to that approach.

Recently, he tried online dating, but gave it up when women started to question his profile. Perhaps he shouldn’t have listed his fear of ninjas or his championship, three years running, at the Tri-County Hotdog Eating Competition and Buffet.

“I’m breaking up with Jillian,” he said.

Again came the silence. Harry stopped inhaling biscuits and gravy. Jimmy pushed back from his scrambled eggs and sausage. Tommy slowly dabbed the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin, Firewalker looked up and mumbled, “Wha..?”, and Arnold choked down a gulp of fresh poured coffee.

“Gilligan who?” Arnold sputtered, once his scalded larynx allowed him to speak.

“Jillian,” John corrected, “Jillian Michaels. She’s a fitness trainer. I’ve been watching one of her work-out videos.”

“I used to watch one of Jane Fonda’s videos,” Tommy mumbled under his breath as he took a nostalgic stroll down memory lane, recalling Jane Fonda from the era of headbands and matching leggings work-out videos. “It was called ‘Barbarella”’

“I’ve heard of this Gilligan fella’”, smirked Harry. “However, I prefer Mary Ann.”

This sparked several minutes of heated debate over the ageless question, “Ginger or Mary Ann?” Eventually, the banter subsided and no clear winner was declared.

“This Jillian person,” Jimmy said and renewed the group’s curiosity in Big John’s recent revelations, “You’re seeing her? The two of you are dating?”

He was having a difficult time understanding the presence of a woman in John’s life, or his intelligence for wanting to break up with her.

“No. We’re not dating. I just

watch her.”

“Isn’t that stalking?”

“I watch her fitness video.” John explained that Jillian Micheals is some kind of a certified exercise fanatic and used to boss fat people around on a reality-TV show. “She keeps yelling at me and telling me to ‘engage my core.’ Well I’ve had it. I’ve been with her for two days and she’s been trying to change me from the day we met. My core is saying ‘this engagement’s off.’”

“You might not want to be too hasty with this decision,” offered Firewalker as he twirled his toast around in his over-easy egg yolk. “She sounds like the perfect woman for you. You won’t have to buy her fancy dinners, boxes of chocolate, or frou-frou umbrella drinks at the bar.”

“She nags too much. Do this. Do That. Do it one more time,” he said.

“Yeah. No man wants to hear that,” Sarah mumbled as she topped off everyone’s coffee cup.

The conversation swirled around the table as each member offered his take on the pros and cons of sticking with Jillian. No clear cut decision could be made, much like the debate over Ginger or Mary Ann.

Tommy Jones broke the debate deadlock when he asked, “What say we head over to my house, put something more potent in our coffee and watch “Barbarella?’”

 

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.