Monday, November 16, 2009

...and I didn't even get her number

"Where's your braunschweiger?"

"I don't know what that is, ma'am."

"Really? You work here and don't know what braunschweiger is?"

"I'm sorry. Is it like bratwurst? Like a sausage or something?"

"*exaggerated sigh* No, it's not bratwurst! It's a spread. I have to get it now. I already have the crackers! If you work here you should at least know stuff about this place and what they sell."

(After looking for a few minutes...)

"Ah, here's some. Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes that's it. It took long enough! I can't wait to get home and get out of this leg!"

Then she angrily drove her little scooter away.

Livery meat spreads and belligerent amputees.

This is my hell.

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