Someone who burns the American Flag will say that their right to do so is protected under the 1st Amendment to the Constitution, which governs free speech. Are they right or wrong?

The Denny's Restaurant early morning was always busy with high turnover at the counter and the slower, family diners, usually travelers, taking the booths and tables.  Shay had the counter and didn't hear the exchange begin, but when Terri rushed over, she knew trouble was brewing.

"Shay, I think there's going to be a fight."  Terri pointed to the booths by the windows.  "Jim and Lenny."

Jim and Lenny were regulars who were ornery even when they got the counter seats they wanted, and they were worse when they didn't.  Shay heard their laughter, loud over the other customers, and louder when people surrounding them started to notice, too.

"Fags, Lenny," intoned Jim.  "It's them fags that are ruining society.  They're ruining the sanctity of marriage."  Lenny nodded as if Jim was imparting great wisdom rather than repeating what he heard on the redneck radio station he listened to.

Shay saw the gay couple seated behind Jim and Lenny fuming quietly.  They had only just gotten their meals, and she could practically hear their thoughts, wondering if they should finish and ignore the men, or get up and leave without eating breakfast, hoping the next place was more tolerant.  Before she could even begin to think, Shay stalked over to the window booths.

"Excuse me, Jim.  Lenny."  Shay stood until they both stopped laughing at each other's wisdom.  "I'm going to have to ask you to pay your bills.  There are a lot of people waiting for a table."

Jim looked up at Shay, color flushing his cheeks above his wiry beard.  "We're still drinking our coffee.  As a matter of fact, we'd like a refill."

"You're not getting a refill, Jim.  You're going to leave."  Shay felt her heart racing and knew she was flooded with adrenaline.

"Why?  We ain't done nothing."

The restaurant was quiet except for the distant sizzling of the grill.  "You're offending the other customers, and you're offending me.  You fellas are done with your meal, so you need to leave."

Lenny sat up straighter, indignant.  "This is America.  We can say what we want, and if somebody's offended, it's their problem."

Jim smirked, "That's right.  It's our First Amendment right!  Freedom of Speech!"

Shay leaned down, fists on their table, and spoke low, "That protects you from the government.  This is a privately owned restaurant.  If I want to throw you out, I can throw you out.  Right now, I'm just asking you to leave because you're done.  Do you two understand those differences?"  Shay bent her elbows to lean even lower, "The government can't stop you from saying what you want.  I can, and I am, and I will do more than that if you don't get out now."  The waitress stood back and motioned for the men to leave.

Pageant Question: Do you think contestants with cosmetic surgery should be permitted to compete in beauty pageants? What if the contestant was in a severe accident?

"Marsha, did you not hear me?  I said I'm leaving you."  Brad stood tensely in their dining room, gripping the back of a chair.

Marsha sat, implacable, in her chair at the far end, her face a mask.  "I heard you," she murmured, "and I am furious."

"Why don't you show it?  This is one of the very reasons I'm leaving you; you never show your feelings to me.  I can't tell what you're thinking."  Brad's eyes pleaded with his wife of ten years.

A tear leaked out of Marsha's left eye and ran down her smooth cheek unchecked.  "I am horrified, and shocked beyond my ability to comprehend.  Brad, I didn't see this coming."  Her eyes blinked slowly, left, then the right.

"Get mad then, Marsha!  Show me you're angry!"  Brad's forehead creased with his frustration, his lips tight and white.

"Don't you understand, Brad?"  Marsha stood, her face white and smooth.  "I am showing my anger."

Brad's brows raised, his mouth became a tiny "o".

"Yes, Brad, this is the most my face can move."  There seemed to be a moment of concentration passing behind her eyes.  "That was sadness."  Another flicker of brain activity registered.  "That is anger."  Masha's shoulders shook for a moment and she made an odd exhalation though her porcelain face remained immobile.  "I laugh at your confusion." 

Brad's sun-speckled hand came up to his mouth, bracketed with creases.  "My God, Marsha.  What have you done to yourself?"

227

The back of Harry's fist connected with the side of her head and she reeled, giving him enough time to shift to a more stable stance.  The litter-filled hallway was cramped and dangerous.  Harry had already had a pile of old furniture bounce off his shoulder as it fell and he knew it would hurt later.  Unfortunately, his reverse punch didn't knock her out and she came at him hard from the shadows.  Harry blocked and gave room as he could, knowing the end of the hall was somewhere close behind him giving no escape.