She Seemed to Belong

 Excerpted from A Confederate General from Big Sur by Richard Brautigan, ©1964

We stopped at a little café and got some coffee.  The coffee was brought to us by the world's ugliest waitress.  I gave her an imaginary name:  Thelma.  I do things like that.

My name is Jesse.  Any attempt to describe her would be against my better judgement, but in her own way she seemed to belong in that café with steam rising like light out of our coffee.

Helen of Troy would have looked out of place.  "What's Helen of Troy doing in here?" some longshoreman would have asked.  He wouldn't have understood.  So Thelma it was for the likes of us.

The best thing about Richard Brautigan's novels are the little detours and asides.  You can't focus on the destination, because it's never really clear where you're going.