Men with beards, tattoos, and gold teeth hunch over steaming trays of scrambled eggs and home fried potatoes. Some laugh, some talk, others are silent-filling the space around them with curiosity. A curiosity interested in the circumstances that brought him into this establishment. Each man pokes and prods at the smelly eggs until breakfast time is over for them and they must resume their chores. Sweeping, serving, stocking, or one of any number of tasks awaits their attention.
Regulars elbow through to be the first in line.
Before breakfast is served, thanks must be given. The crowd mumbles fragments of The Pledge of Allegiance, Serenity Prayer, and The Lord s Prayer. The soft, predominately male voices carry out the doors and flutter down the street where a passerby could easily mistake them as words of a chapel choir. After the prayers are said, breakfast can commence. Bright yellow trays pile 30 high at the start of the line.