dear you, who used to sit at table #23,
monday/special: reuben with a side of licorice sticks/soup: bone button borchst
the architect came in today. oh, does he drink coffee. i bring it to the table in crystal punch bowls.
remember when the power went out and i was serving that table of 10 who promised me a huge tip, my very own banana tree, if only i would bring them their order?
the architect built us an electrical plant out of eggs over easy. as soon as we scratched them with forks. light. banana splits on the house.
tuesday/special: organic pancakes straight from the aerosol can/soup: coconut peanut butter
all sentences directed towards me contained 0 grams of sugar. spit in many tapiocas. went home and laid on leftover napkins.
is it difficult to walk when you have to move yourself and the person clinging to you? you’re married. i’m sure you know. maybe i’d be a natural. i can carry three plates and two sodas at once. as long as the soda is diet.
wednesday/special: tootsie rolls/soup: tootsie rolls microwaved in a bowl
we ran out of everything but tootsie rolls. it’s not a big deal. people are used to accepting tootsie rolls in lieu of better things. we learn to do it at a very young age. usually at parades or halloween.
we’ll have everything again tomorrow, except a few things. you, for example, have been on the 86 list for 120 days now. it’s a record.
thursday/special: meatloaf of the gods /soup: daddy’s whisker soup
this will be the last one for now. these waitress pads are small. summer is looking straight at me and promising to take me to the beach once my shift is over. his car is the color of cherries. it is hard not to take a big bite.
your pie is still waiting for you,