Beer, burgers, the Celts, and a pile of burning mattresses

April 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

So we’re sitting in the Campfire Grill in the Pumpkin Valley section of my hometown in Maine. Huge burgers are truckin’ out of the kitchen, and huge beers are sloshing out of the taps. The place is jammed, and country music lies like a big red, white, and blue quilt over the buzz of conversation in the room. The Celts are on the massive TV above the bar, it’s Friday night, and everyone is happy to be here and to be alive. Then all of a sudden, out the big window, across Route 302, and just beyond a thin line of trees, mountains of heavy black smoke go leaping into the air. We’re sitting there expecting Armageddon to roll over us, when our waitress comes by to see how we’re doing. We have our mouths full of mega-burger, so we gesture wildly toward the inferno. The waitress peers solemnly out the window and says, “Oh, yeah, they told us someone was gonna burn a bunch of mattresses over there.” And then she zips off to tend to another table.

So here you are, volumes of mattress smoke along with a reflection of the Celtics game in the restaurant window. Friday night in the USA. It doesn’t get much better than that.

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