If I were to open a resteraunt, I'd have delightfully awesome items on the menu--those certain things you love but you aren't aware that you love them. Chicken Crispies. You know what these are; don't play dumb--when you fry and/or bake breaded chicken cutlets, they always leave behind those crispy nuggets of fried/baked breadcrumb that have been sizzling in the oil at the bottom of the pan. I've been saying for years that bags of those should be sold, if only just to me. Diner Breakfast Sausage Ends. Everybody knows that the best part about diner breakfast sausage are those crispy, fried ends on either side of the sausage. Crispy sausage ends are where it's at. Your breakfast is a piece of shit without these and it should go die somewhere uncomfortable... like maybe on the concrete or something. Surprise. I'm suddenly changing topics on you. Whoever told you I wasn't a slick one is obviously and severely misinformed. You'd better help them out so that they may apologize and I can consider forgiving them. There was this whole... thing that happened at work on Saturday. It involved me, a customer and her entire family, a lot of screaming and a brief mentioning of the circus, fairytales and the need for medication. Wow. Having explained it like that explains nothing, but I'm not in the mood to elaborate any further. You'll just have to draw your own conclusions. Which brings to mind a fun idea: by my description above, what is your version of what happened:
Delicious menu items
11:26 p.m.//08.14.05
Mood: Not terrible, surprisingly
Sound: The hum of the fanIt involved me, a customer and her entire family, a lot of screaming and a brief mentioning of the circus, fairytales and the need for medication.
Leave it in my notes. And if you leave anything, then you're my favorite.
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