The wife, kids and I were eating at a local diner last night and we were shocked to see that indeed one could order a side of malaise to go with any of the thrifty-priced dinner combos listed in the greasy (tear-stained?) menu. My wife grew up in Texas, so she quickly assumed that this was a midwest sort of thing. I agreed that it probably was the sort of condiment that one could only find in Rust-Belt cities. What with the unemployment, homelessness, crime and general grimacing that seems to be the only thing going down on the pot-holed streets of these decaying cities - you pour that junk on your cheap BLT and like it.
All in all, it was a new choice. It was not something we had seen recently on any other menu. We asked the kind manager about the menu item. She just stood there staring at us with huge, bulbous, freaky, nightmarish, blood-splotched eyes. It seemed like everyone else eating in the place received cell-phone calls - all at the same time. There we were staring into those creepy eyes while the rest of the place murmered into their phones. I could have sworn they were all talking about the malaise - about how weird it tasted - how odd it smelled.
My kids started to cry.
My wife and I ordered another beer.
Typical.
This note was found under a table at The Nutty Hotdog Coffee House located on the outskirts of Cleveland, Ohio.
No comments:
Post a Comment