Chesters Chicken

By Jerry Mack Grubbs

Exhausted, I pulled into a truck stop, the only place open at 2:00 A.M. in Wamsutter. Wamsutter is in the middle of Wyoming not close to anything you've ever heard of. The little town boasts a population of 68 and an elevation of 6709 feet. Main Street is comprised of two truck stops and a 1950's Maw and Paw Café. The café booths have the original upholstery decorated with cigarette burns along with cracked and frayed cushions. I had eaten there on a previous trip to Wamsutter and noticed that the owners must take great pride in the carvings of initials and love notes in the wooden backs of the booths. I saw one that dated back to August 6th, 1951.  But this story isn't about the café; its windows were dark and a neon pink sign flashed "closed" on the side of the building.

Inside the truck stop where I now stood, momentarily allowing my eyes to adjust to the bright lights was a combination Subway Sandwich/Chester's Chicken eatery. That's where I met Marlene. I was burnt out on Subway because that is where Kaye always wants to stop. She thinks you can live on lettuce, cucumbers and tomatoes on a whole wheat bun. Subway calls it a veggie delight. I call it getting hungry thirty minutes after you've eaten.

I chose to eat at Chester's Chicken. Marlene was working behind the counter. I told her I wanted a Number 5 which consisted of a thigh, a drumstick, mashed potatoes, gravy, coleslaw and a roll. Marlene said that Chester's was closed and I would have to order a Subway sandwich. I wasn't sure I wanted Marlene making me a sandwich. She had a large bandage on her wrist, wore no gloves or hairnet and was smoking a cigarette. I asked her if Subway ever let a customer come behind the counter and make their own sandwich. She informed me that the Board of Health didn't permit customers in the prep area. I decided I wouldn't eat.

As I turned to leave, Marlene said, "Is your heart set on fried chicken mister?" Before I could answer, she said, "We're out of drumsticks, potatoes, gravy and corn on the cob. You'll have to settle for two thighs and two cups of coleslaw." "How long has the chicken been sitting there?" I asked. "We don't date stamp our chicken," she responded, not showing the least bit of offense by my question. I ordered a Number 5 with the substitutions and sat down in the eating area that was shared by Subway and Chester's Chicken.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Marlene as she slid into the seat across from me. Since there were no other customers at 2:00 in the morning she decided to take a coffee break and pass the time. I was about to say that she could sit down if she ditched the cigarette but I held my tongue. I had been reading a book that spoke about choosing whether we see individuals as objects or as people. She brought me a large root beer that I had not ordered. She told me about her life. I was thankful that I made the choice to see her as a person not as an object, listening to someone who needed an attentive ear instead of holding myself aloof.

Marlene's break ended forty-five minutes later when a sleepy truck driver staggered through the door. He had the worst case of bed head I had seen since I looked in the mirror the previous morning. Sliding out of the booth I poked my half eaten dinner into the trash. The chicken was terrible. I'll never eat there again but I will stop in to see if Marlene is on duty, working behind the dual counter of Subway and Chester's Chicken. All she asked was a little of my time and a listening ear. I gave her what she asked and received much more in return. Besides the free root beer and some second hand cigarette smoke, listening to Marlene's story, I gained a greater appreciation for my own life, my opportunities, my education, and my family and friends who continually enrich my life.