kenny sharf

An Italian patron at a big table of Italians was irritated. He had thick black glasses and a black turtleneck and a pointed nose that scrunched up when his glasses slid down. It wasn’t attractive when he used his nose to keep his glasses from falling.

He hailed the waiter who gave some lame excuse about the food coming out “all together” and that’s why the entire party had been waiting for their food for (probably) longer than when we had gotten there.

And we in turn waited longer than necessary for one black coffee, one latte and one cappuccino, sans art.

Zuzanna and I watched Francesca eat.

I commented on the cute wastefulness of pouring milk into a miniature pitcher.

We asked where the bathroom was, and the waiter gave us some convoluted answer about going beyond a partition and down some stairs. So we asked again and he said Do You Need Me To Go With You? It’s Beyond The Partition. He was carrying a metal pitcher of water or something in his left hand as he used his entire right arm to make an irritable motion for the word Beyond.

And then I disliked our waiter after that.

We took some matches and headed to dusty Ray Ban Land after paying.

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