A man walks into the restaurant looking haggard. He’s been driving all night, and he’s exhausted – nearly drove off Interstate 90 twice on his way to Chicago. Good thing those vibrating, ribbed thingies were there on the side of the road to wake him, give him that cold shiver only terrorizing fear can give a man, or else: who knows? Who knows.
He finds a spot at the counter. There are old men there asking for pie. They get no pie. He suspects that if he asks, he might get pie. But does he even want pie? No, he won’t chance being a pie reject in this place.
He watches that dessert glass cabinet thing rotate. He’s mesmerized and doesn’t see the waitress. What’ll you have? she asks him.
He turns his head away from the dessert merry-go-round to meet her own tired eyes. God, she’s not beautiful.
He says, I’ll have the oggs.
One Comment
this is excellent
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