To sustain me for my super early morning
round of flights to reach rural North Carolina
from Pittsburgh, (city of champions,
and my childhood stomping grounds),
I sought out a touted
airport bagel shop.
HOWEVER, their counter staff was
resisting the advertised
five am opening on my travel day.
“Closed until ten” the sign said.
Wandering down the hallway,
surprisingly (to me) I found
an active bar, complete with
sports on two television screens,
terrible towel banners, and
people perched on tall stools
the curved Formica bar,
some at tables, all with drinks.
I hoisted my short self onto
a barstool and asked the lone server
“Do you have coffee?”
“Yes, but no milk.”
So, I took it black, moderating
its bitterness with sugar
instead of whisky.
Menu food categories boasted
“Breakfast of Champions,”
(Toast, eggs, and a Bloody Mary)
and a list of side dishes.
I chose to supplement
my caffeine infusion with
toasted plain bagel, cream cheese.
While waiting for my order,
at least fifteen folks of various ages,
dress, stages of wakefulness,
stepped up to the counter,
requesting bar or table service
Bloody Marys, Long Island iced teas,
beer, and/or espresso martinis.
Most requested open tabs.
While I was there, no one
ordered any food.
It seems in my hometown,
Breakfast of Champions
has become a liquid ritual.
Does black coffee count?
Joan Leotta plays with words on page and stage. She writes and performs tales of food, family, strong women and has a one woman show as Louisa May Alcott. Internationally published as an essayist, poet, short story writer, and novelist, she’s a two-time Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee and was a 2022 runner-up in Robert Frost Competition. Her two chapbooks are “Languid Lusciousness with Lemon” and "Feathers on Stone."
Author, Story Performer
“Encouraging words through Pen and Performance”
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