The waitress surprised us. She posited, “Fruit?” I think everyone looked surprised. I was.
“Third-rate fish sticks,” gasped Lefty through angular dentures. “Find out which pancake-flipper back there sent them my way.”
“I’ll ask,” muttered the waitress.
I saw my wedding ring as a reminder. “Whether or not this restaurant forges ahead, it made me something to eat,” I stated. “And it serves me right.”
It was a reminder about the wedding. More than hospitality, eating well had been non-negotiable. I hired both my own farming company and a team of research nutritionists who thought long and hard about eating cow meat. To give their research findings a fair shake, I’d advise getting a translator, a hard hat, and a good set of silverware.
Since I married his twin sister, my pal Lefty ain't been the same.