One morning in 1986, as was usual for me, I drove to the Girlie restaurant on I44 next to the Sleepy Bear Motor Hotel in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The west side of Tulsa was not the best place to find a good breakfast on Sunday morning. But, I had been eating at the restaurant for a few months and it wasn’t bad.

I grabbed a copy of the Tulsa World newspaper from the front machine after depositing fifty cents and walked to the back, sliding into a booth that allowed me a full view of anyone entering or exiting the restaurant.

He had been sitting for about fifteen minutes when a couple of women entered. One was somewhat older than the other, possibly mother and daughter. They selected a booth on the opposite side of the aisle from me, a little to the front, with the younger woman in front of me, and the older woman turned around.

The older woman appeared to be in her fifties, sporting some gray and wearing thick glasses. It was a bit heavy for his height, but not too heavy. He seemed to be talking to his daughter all the time.

I have been told that my ability to notice or pay attention did not work well at times. But I want to tell you that I noticed that the younger woman looked strange. I couldn’t point it out, but it was there. She was taller than her mother, slim, had short blonde hair and blue eyes, and was not a bad-looking woman.

Before she sat down, I saw that she was wearing a medium dress, bare legs, and a pair of loafers. She had nice breasts and. . . wait a minute! Suddenly it clicked. She was a double amputee! Both arms were missing just below his shoulders! How the hell was I going to eat, I thought to myself?

The waitress had my order; two eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy. Where was she anyway? It sure seems slow today for some reason. I kept wandering the sports page, occasionally looking up from the newspaper.

It was then that I noticed something peculiar happening on the other side of the road. No, wasn’t it that the woman with her back to me had lit a cigarette and was smoking? What struck me was that he handed the cigarette to his daughter and she took it with her foot!

I glanced at him twice, leaning to the side to watch the waitress as she placed my order on the table. I had to see this. The woman had her foot on the table and took the lit cigarette between her fingers. He tilted his head slightly, taking a drag on the grass, then let the smoke slide between his slightly parted lips and then the corner of his mouth.

God, that seems easy, I thought. Well, the food hasn’t arrived yet. Let’s see how you handle that.

I glanced at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, a bite of eggs and sausage, and then returned my attention to the two women sitting across the road.

Well! I muttered to myself. Here comes your food. Let’s see how it does it. A cigarette is one thing, but a fork, a spoon, a cup of coffee. . and pancakes?

Well! I could not believe what I was watching. He ate his pancakes, bacon, and drank coffee like nothing was wrong. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

I finished my breakfast and continued reading the newspaper. Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, the two ladies sit for a while longer, smoking and drinking coffee. They may have been talking about me.

“Who is that gaping stranger? No one in the back of the restaurant,” perhaps the girl asked her mother.

Anyway, I never forgot those pair of ladies and their more unusual actions at the Girlie restaurant on I-44, that Sunday morning in 1986.