We were sat at the same table for the fourth week in a row as we watched a gentleman exit the coffee house. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to the waitress.
“Daddy, [probably trying to drop a hint] he is coming back tomorrow too.”
“He must be a regular.”
“What’s a regular?”
“A regular is a person who is predictable and the people who work somewhere know that that same person will always be there at a certain time or day.”
“So, we are regulars on Friday mornings.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, buddy.”
. . . .
Fast forward one week; we walk in and sit at the same table for the fifth consecutive week. It is adjacent to the counter, which the waitress leans over to ask, “Coffee and OJ, right?”
When she arrived a few moments later she brought with her our beverages. “I figured I would just bring him a bigger cup instead of having to ask for a second cup later,” she said as she placed a large tumbler cup on the table. She then asked, “What can I bring you guys today?” [for the first time, not holding her pad.]
“We will have a chocolate chip pancake with an extra plate, a scrambled egg, crispy bacon and…Austin, did I forget something?”
“English Muffin,” she said with confidence.
She was right, and so was he: we are regulars.