Snippet of a Conversation
2002-11-08 - 10:57 p.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
Snippet of a conversation. I was at Ponderosa, the steak house. I called for take out, unsure if they even did that at this place. They are all about buffets. I awkwardly went through the transaction on the phone. �Do you do take out?� I asked. �I don�t know.� She repied. Okay. �So, if I show up and give you money, you�ll give me food, and I can walk right back out again?� I ask. �Yes.� She says. Okay. No worries. So I make my order, fuck around with the guitar, and go get my food. �I was told I get a trip to the buffet, and you would tell me what to do.� I say. I�ve been feeling very un-funny lately, which is to say, I�m trying, but no one really seems to groove on it. For some reason, I keep trying. She went into an explanation of protocol. �I just threw that in there, that you�d tell me what to do.� I said. I was about to go off on a tangent about free will or something, on the order of �well, I suppose that�s a lot to ask, you know, for you to run my life and everything. Buffet will be fine.� Or conversely �I�m not asking you to be the boss of me, or anything. But if you wanted���something like that. She beat me to it. �You can have whatever you can fit in here,� she said, handing me a Styrofoam container. I thrust it back at her. �Here, try this on.� I replied.
|