An hour north of New York is Chatterbox located in a sleepy crossroads. During the long summer, people gather at a moment’s chat on Saturday nights. 300 vehicles are not uncommon.
In the woods of America. Slow, easy and very friendly. 300 cars at the most. Perfect.
I look out the side window. Low clouds covering the entire sky. On the left side, I see the restaurant. Round in shape with 360 degree car park outside the large glass panes are reminiscent of a classic diner … Mels Drive in the film American Graffiti. The built in Swedish concern for the cold outside comes by itself but when I open the door. Hot!
-Man, you get shocked every time.
Swedish interpretation of the weather by looking out the gray toned windows of a car with AC goes wrong ten times out of ten times.
It smells of hot asphalt, gasoline and fried strips. A speaker somewhere idling and music streaming from speakers on stands.
-Hi, how`ya doin …
Kindness you can grab and feel. People seeking my eyes and wish health .. just like that.
-‘Cuse Me, they say if you see that my course will cross their course about nine feet away and stops.
It’s hard to explain but people ask, then apologized nine feet before one would have been able to bump into each other if they retained the same course.
-Thank’s Sir, you’re welcome, nice day and a thousand pleasantries to fill the air.
Soothing for a Swedish ice looney on defrosting.
As usual USA knocks you out cold. The architecture, the parking, the heat, the environments, the music, the floor is just so right. The Mustang in the middle takes your breath away. The dragster in the air hits the jaw and in addition, when you’re lying there on the floor, an electric train cirkles above you (!) Around and around on the ceiling. Knockout.
I’m a reporter on vacation but can not keep my hands of the camera. The notebook comes in handy. Yanks smiles calmly. Posing politely and simmer on their deep ‘r’. They are here to enjoy. Relax. They know the art. The sun disappears, the heat stays. Three young people on a lowered tailgate and talk with each other as I pass.
-Ohh what the heck from where did-you say Switzerland?
-Nah, Sweden.
-Cool!
The Merc from 1954 was for sale. 18.500 dollars
The main thing is that everyone is happy. Now let’s grab a burger guys.
-A fantastic Saturday afternoon.
