PLACING MY TO-GO ORDER at Dennys® this morning, I spotted a young man conversing with an older gentleman. I turned to the cashier and began to make inquiry: Isnt that..., ...Clay Aiken, she interrupted. I thought so, I said, reaching for my wallet. I was unaware that he was coming to town. Does he have a concert at the Mohegan [Sun Casino]? Oh, no— Mr. Aiken is here quite frequently, she replied, sliding my breakfast order across the counter. He owns this place. He owns THIS [Dennys®] franchise? I asked with a hint of doubt. Yes— he and that man there, she informed me, pointing to the aforementioned gentleman... ...then— I woke up, rolled over, looked at the clock (4:43), and just laid there watching the rotation of my ceiling fan. Im uncertain which is more disturbing— the fact that Im up before sunrise on Labour Day (when I should be sleeping) or that I dreamt of Clay Aiken...
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 10:08:49 +0000
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