#Middlebury #Veterans
I cruised into town again to check on the elderly veterans usually arrayed on folding chairs in front of the coffee shop.
They were there, including the one with the 6-foot wooden folding tape measure. He wasn’t aiming it anyone this time, however. He was busy arguing with one of the town’s police officers.
“They can’t fit all of us inside,” he was insisting. The officer sighed and nodded.
I sidled over to the takeout window and ordered my coffee. I looked inside and no one was in there except one waitress, leaning on the counter and wearing a mask, and the girl at the front window who shoved the credit card machine at me with gloved hands.
The town council had recently decreed that certain businesses would be allowed to open, but only if they adhered to social distancing rules within the establishment.
“It’s a small place,” said another veteran. “And they don’t want us filling all the seats.”
“In case they get a big mob of customers,” said another.
The officer sighed again as his shoulder radio burped and squawked, and he turned to leave. “”The problem,” he said, walking away, “is that you’re blocking the sidewalk. Now that more people are out and about, we can’t have you sitting here like this.”
Not that there were many more people. A teenage girl came down the sidewalk and the veteran with the measuring stick asked her, “Miss, are we blocking your way?” She smiled and said as she passed by, “No, sir, you’re fine.”
Which was good for at least 10 minutes of conversation about the nice manners of some of the local young, as opposed to the policeman who hadn’t said “sir” even once.
By the time I left, they had the teen’s future all mapped out: She would become a nurse and work at the VA hospital. They were certain of it. And everything would be all right.
© 2020 King Features Synd., Inc.
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