Lunch at Coopers. I will never get tired of that restaurant, and I’ll never get of blogging about it, either. It’s an ecosystem unto itself.

I ate at the lunch counter today. That was necessary for two reasons: the dining room was full, and the lunch counter is an important part of the experience that cannot be ignored.

Lunch counters need to come back into style. As a society, we’re too “into” the idea of our own private booth to give serious consideration to the idea that lunch should be a social activity. Being the daring socialite I am, I walked to the only open stool in full stride and enjoyed the going-ons behind the counter.

Three servers were working furiously to keep the lunch counter crowd in food and drink. Coopers is the kind of place where “tea” is only understood to mean sweet tea, and it’s freshly brewed and served to you in a styrofoam cup with plenty of ice.

Lunch comprised of “chop, with butter beans and Brunswick stew”. It was served on a styrofoam plate. It also came with a little plastic basket of hush puppies and rinds. Doused with Coopers’ own vinegar sauce, it’s a scrumptious meal and heart attack all in one.

It was the conversation at the lunch counter that interested me today, though. I was seated next to two fellows who were deep in conversation about the places they had lived in North Carolina. The one fellow’s resume was impressive; it included Durham, Raleigh, Garner, Fuquay-Varina, Rockingham, and Knightdale. Each place came with its own running commentary about the current state of affairs, which inevitably boiled down to nor’ners moving in and jacking up the price of real-estate.

And every time he made a point, the other fellow would punctuate it with “Mmmmm Hmmmm”. Emphasis was melodic; I think he was saying it in the key of E, and the tail-end of the “Hmmmm” would always rise up, suggesting some eternally unanswered question in his acknowledgment.