What can YOU say in six sentences?
We were eatin’ our breakfast and I couldn’t help but watch Ms. Pancakes as she flitted around from table to table, asking people if everything was OK, if they wanted more coffee, and such. She floated around like a red-headed hummin’ bird movin’ in slow motion to a Frank Sinatra song.
Buddy was pourin’ the syrup on his French toast and I was wonderin’ if my Florida orange juice really was from Florida, when this kinda short, bald guy, dressed in camouflage army pants, barges into the restaurant, runs up to Ms. Pancakes, and starts yellin’ at her, like she had shot his dog, or worse, run off with his best friend. It was mean yellin’ too, with lots of cussin’, which I won’t bother to tell you about in detail, just in case there are any ladies readin’ this.
Everybody was lookin’ at Ms. Pancakes, like she was guilty of 1st degree dogslaughter AND cheatin’ and she looked real afraid and started cryin, and the guy wouldn’t let up—he just kept yelling at her, an accusin’ her of the worst stuff and sayin’ some really uncomplimentary things a gentlemen should never say to a lady.
It was so bad, Ms. Pancakes dropped her coffee pot on the floor, and it exploded—pop-- like a 100 watt light bulb thrown against a cinder block wall.