We
start the day early stopping for breakfast in Fairfax
— a homey little walking town with a tree-studded
panhandle dividing the main street into two one-ways.
Not hard to avoid Denny’s or any of those places,
here.
There aren’t any.
We look around to see what place has the most
activity.
Busy places in small towns on weekdays are usually
full of locals.
The
Koffee
Klatch wins.
We walk in and sit at the counter.
The place reeks of movie memorabilia.
Not surprising.
The town was location for dozens of Western
movies from 1910 to about 1923. It even had
its own movie studio, United Keanograph
Studio. In the window are hundreds of
cardboard photographs of all the people who live
there. It's kind of
weird, but neat too.
Our waitress — I’m guessing she's 22ish —
has long black hair, dark brownish red lipstick and
a few rings hanging from her face.
She is friendly and answers all our questions.
We heard there was nightlife in Fairfax — is it
true? Yes,
she says, it is.
The three clubs in town have good music and if there’s a
holiday, there may be a brawl.
We make a note.
She tells us she’s lived here all her life and everyone
that comes to visit says it is paradise.
She doesn’t see it, but is smart enough to know you
sometimes have to lose something to appreciate it.
This is her last week in Fairfax, for a time
anyway.
She’s moving to Pennsylvania to work with a scarf
designer.
Back on the road...
