Key Lime over the Coconut Cream

"You know this place has been a no fly zone since the health department came in earlier this year eh? Not to mention the reviews on google."

"Yeah, and what of it?"

"Nothing."

Will knew Kim loved this place and he knew Kim would overreact if he said anything bad about this restaurant called "restaurant."

Kim was a bit hesitant about bringing his buddy Will to the restaurant called restaurant on the corner of Younge and Hillsdale because Will was sometimes too happy when Kim wanted to be glum, but Will had been a good friend to Kim since he moved to the neighborhood and Kim thought Will had earned a sliver of his personal life to be shared.

Kim had been coming here since he moved to Toronto. He had walked past it for a few weeks and decided it looked perfectly sad. He liked the sad corners of the city. The spots shaded in the daylight, and dimly lit in the evening. The kind of place you would mull over a burnt cup of coffee during your night shift break, or get drunk on a lonely Friday night with a warm mystery beer poured from one of the two beer taps behind the counter and wonder "is that Budlight or Coors?" and then decide that they're both equally shitty so it doesn't matter.

 Terry, the old bird behind the counter, was lazy, but always on queue. She was sweet but bitchy. Tired but alive. The ever looming entity that dealt with the dead mice in traps and then served you a slice of pie right after. She had a daughter who would come in every once in a while during her study breaks and Terry would brighten right up. Her daughter was bubbly and enthusiastic and would bring a breath of intense love and life into Terry. They would talk and giggle and she would read Terry her papers and Terry would listen thoroughly and lovingly and pretend like she knew what the words jovial and amiable meant and try to give advice and her daughter would listen with a smile knowing Terry was trying her best and she would think how much she loved Terry and then she would go back to the library to stay up and study and leave Terry to work the rest of her graveyard shift and Terry would get back to work with a new found pep to her walk and she would remember why she was up at 2am serving Kim a slice of key lime pie.

 Kim liked Terry. She made the best pie. Key lime was her specialty, although she has many others, Kim sticks with the Key lime because of the fly he found in the coconut cream one night. He didn't say anything because all he had to do was just not eat it and Terry would've probably told him to fuck off anyways.

 He liked to come up with stories for Terry, maybe she was a failed actress? Maybe she was a former aspiring chef? Maybe she just genuinely likes serving sad fuckers like himself? Or maybe she just fooled around too much in her twenties that led to the twenty year old she's putting through school right now while in her forties. Either way Kim liked her.

"Oh fuck man! They've got Coconut Cream!" Will exclaimed.

"Get the Key Lime, trust me, it's a better choice."

 Although deep down, Kim would have enjoyed watching Will cough up some sort of bug that had burrowed deep into the creamy interior of that slice of pie.

 After sharing a conversation over the slice of pie, Will suggested they order a shot of tequila. Reluctantly, Kim agreed. They enjoyed their shot and another conversation when the sweep of a door and the ring of a bell made Kim’s gaze leave the corner of Will's mouth, where a piece of whipped cream had started squatting, and moved it slowly towards the door. Kim took his time examining the next guest in the restaurant called restaurant, because he already knew who it was. It was Jim aka Jimmy aka Chim aka Jimbo. 

 “Terry, my baby! I fucking LOVE you!”

 “Fuck off Jimmy. Did you scrounge up enough coin for your drinks tonight?” 

 “Yes mayumm” he slurred. 

 Jim plunked a heavy handful of coins, cash, toothpicks, and dust onto the counter as Terry poured an uncarbonated warm beer and slid it over to Jimmy.

 Chim waved at Kim acknowledging another frequenter of the restaurant called restaurant, and proceeded to drink aggressively, spilling beer down the corners of his mouth and the front of his shirt. Jimbo was another character Kim studied. He was a man Kim revered and greatly feared at the same time. He revered Jimbo because of the chaotic and brutally honest life he lived, and feared him because he felt he was one more missed bus or traffic jam away from peeling off the last layer of sanity holding his psyche together and joining Chim in the streets hustling for dollars and washing his face in puddles. Kim had gathered a scattered life story from the few drunken conversations he shared with Jimbo. Jimmy grew up in a small town in the country called Alma. His family farmed there for generations, but he never found too much love in slinging hay bales and cleaning horse shit so he moved to the big city with a bag of clothes and a copy of Jack Kerouac's “On the Road'' with the sole intention of being a misfit and scraping by on adventure alone. Jimmy didn't give a shit about a pension or a wife and kids. He was an actor, but didn’t care about the movies, an artist who didn't care about selling paintings, a musician who didn't care about record deals, and a poet who didn't care about grammar. All he cared about was his next conversation, drink, burger, or high, not in that order. He told Kim that he fell in love once, but he never fought for it because he was always dominated by his constant urge to keep moving, and that falling in love would mean he’d have to finally slow down and eventually stop. So he never did. And he still vibrates and bounces through the streets, screaming Howlin Wolf songs and telling jokes for quarters.

 Kim told Will about Jimbo's story, and Will became excited.

 “Let’s have a drink with that fucker!”

 “Maybe. I need a few more in me before jumping down that hole.”

 “So what about him?” Will asked, pointing to a suited up man sitting in the corner of the dining room.

 “I haven’t spoken with him yet. Seen him here a few times and he’s always dressed in a suit. Likes the Reuben sandwich quite a bit.”

 “Hey buddy!” Will shouted. When the man realized Will's beckoning, Will waved at him. He shrugged his shoulders and slowly got up, grabbed his cocktail and walked over to them. 

 “What’s your name bud?”

“Sam.”

“Well I’m Will and that’s Kim.”

“Nice to meet you gentlemen.”

“Yeah you too! Now sit down and tell us why you like this dump.”

Sam sat down while Kim ordered another round of shots with an extra one for their new guest.

 Sam told Kim and Will about his dead end job that pays well, but sucks the life out of him. He hates his apartment and his cat, mostly because his cat hates him more. He sits behind a desk all day and gets headaches from the fluorescent lights. The best thing in his life right now is his walk to work and this restaurant called restaurant. He comes here and watches people and gets drunk and see’s life, but not in the fast, hustle and bustle street way, the slow, settled, sullen way. The families that come in during lunch expecting chicken fingers and getting a possible finger. The beggars and business men passing out front of the restaurant at the same time. The clock that ticks so loudly that it puts you close to insanity. He explained that he can come here and expect the same, but be surprised at the same time. He said that you can watch an addict and a beauty queen walk through the door at the same time and both drink from the same coffee pot and he loves that they both get to suffer that awful coffee together even though their lives can never be parallel. 

 Kim listened to him talk and realized he had much more in common with Sam than he thought, and he might’ve found a new sorry sad sack to pout with.

And then Jimbo joined them.

And then they convinced Terry to have a beer with them. 

And they drank, and talked and laughed late into the night.

And when Kim and Will stumbled out of the front door when the sun was an hour away from rising Will looked at Kim and said,

“I can’t BELIEVE that place has one fucking star!”