Michael manages to make it to the office despite the snow, but when he sees that Dwight’s car is the only other one in the parking lot, he grimaces and drives past the building. He loves the office more than some of his family members, but spending the day alone with Dwight? Yuck.
He decides to go to his favorite diner and is excited to find the “Open” sign blinking brightly in the window. He grins as he walks into the building and slides into his usual booth. The only other customers in the place are two old men sitting at the counter; Michael thinks they’re the only people that are in here more than he is. Maybe they don’t know how to cook either.
When the waitress approaches, he smiles at her. “Hello, Anne.”
“Hi, Mike,” she replies brightly. “It’s a pretty bad storm out there. You didn’t go out in it just to come here, I hope.”
“No,” Michael tells her. “I was on my way to work, but, uh, nobody is there. Nobody. Not one person. So, I decided to come here instead.”
“Not even the guy with the glasses?” Anne asks. “I thought he always went to work?”
“Uh, no,” Michael replies. “He’s probably... digging up beets.”
“In this weather?”
“Winter beets,” he mumbles, then clears his throat. “I’ll have my usual, okay?”
Anne smiles and goes to the kitchen.
Michael shrugs off his coat and looks out the window, then turns to the two old men. “It’s really coming down out there.”
“Gives us an excuse not to go home to our wives,” one of the men says and lets out a hoarse laugh.
“Mike, come help us with these word jumbles,” the other man says.
“Sure,” Michael replies. He gets out of his seat and joins the men at the counter. He looks over the word jumble and thinks about it. He points to one of the sections and says, “Macvuu. Must be foreign.”
“I think that’s supposed to be ‘vacuum,’” the first man says.
Michael laughs nervously. He says with shaky confidence, “Duh. I... just wanted to see if you’d get it.”
Anne comes out of the kitchen and places a piece of apple pie and a cup of coffee in front of Michael. When he reaches into his pocket for his wallet, she holds up her hand.
“It’s on the house,” Anne says.
Michael smiles warmly.
