At the Hollow Eye Diner there's a waitress pouring coffee for anyone who'd care to have a sip. There's a slice of apple pie on the lazy susan tray that's yours for a buck-fifty and a tip. The tired ex-marine cook would rather be sleeping but he's saving up his money for a trip. He's gonna go to Timbuktu and become a monk-in-waiting just as soon as he's got passage on a ship. See; he's afraid of flying since he had a bad experience with a jet restroom sink and his lower lip. Me; I just can't sleep tonight and I've got no appetite for a ham and swiss on rye and a bag of chips. Lonely in a jam-packed city at three A.M. all because I'm missing the curve of one particular hip.