i don't want
my peas to touch
the potatoes
she tells the waiter.
please take it
back and try again.
and the meat,
keep it away from
the bread, and
bring the gravy
separate. lay
the salad out,
the lettuce, the
onions, the tomatoes,
each with a small
plate. and put
the water right
there, with a
different glass for
ice. okay, she
says, now where
were we. you just
smile as you finish
off your dinner.
you grab the waiter
by the arm
and tell him,
separate checks
please, you have
to run.
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1 comment:
this cracks me up - an autobiographical piece?
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