and stare at the long glass enclosed
counter. it's
full of red meat and fish,
poultry.
the men are busy sharpening knives
as I take a number.
the walls are painted white.
the floor is black and white.
it's clean
like an operating room might be.
there's a bell on the door
and a picture of a pig on the wall.
a fat man
in a bloody apron, yells at me
and says,
what's it gonna be.
we've got some rib eyes just cut.
you look like a rib eye kind of guy.
how could he possibly know that?
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