Jeff Wysaski
“Steve is a meat and potatoes guy,” I informed the rest of the table. “Who’s Steve?” my wife asked. “This guy!” I said as I pulled the napkin off of my plate with a flourish, revealing the little man I had made out of my meat and potatoes (and also toothpicks).
I tilted my head back and let the exotic liquid flow down my throat. Instantly, my mind whisked me back to that day on the beach with Laura, holding hands as we took a sip of this very drink from a coconut garnished with a little pink umbrella. “Yep,” I said to myself. “This is dog pee.”
As I gazed upon the rows and rows of boring old candy bars, all filled with different combinations of chocolate, nuts, caramel and peanut butter, I thought to myself, “we need a new nougat.”
The sign outside will tell you the old diner serves “fast food,” but that’s not really true. For one, you’ll be sitting at your table forever waiting for your food to come. For two, the place is really hard to get in and out of, what with all the boarded up windows and doors.
“Tacos again?” I said. “You made tacos last night.” I waited for an explanation, but the taco vendor just stood there, looking at me like I was crazy.
If you’re ever on a diet and you’re craving something sweet, here’s a tip: take a spoonful of honey, mix it with a spoonful of low-sugar peanut butter, and then rub it in your hair. Sure, your craving won’t be satisfied, but by the time you finally get that mess out of your hair, maybe you’ll have forgotten all about it.
“I love sandwiches. Everything just tastes better between two pieces of bread,” I explained to Randy as I placed the meat between the two slices of bread and took a bite. Of course, Randy tried to scream, but that’s what the duct tape was for.
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