Over Easy

I sat in the padded seat near the counter, as customers came through the door of the little cafe. Breakfast rush. It’s filling up fast. 

“Mornin’ Frankie,” said Bobby, as he flipped pancakes and turned  hash browns on the grill. “The usual?” 

“No, I’m going on the wild side today.” 

Bobby grinned at her.  “Do tell.”

“Not scrambled. Fried, over easy.” 

Bobby gave her a thumbs up.

“With hash browns, bacon, and toast. And black coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

Bobby reached toward me. “Sorry buddy, I need you.”

With a crack, I fell onto the griddle and began to fry.

*****

100-word microfiction, a Drabble