Cheese, man
Sunday afternoon. 4 beers deep into it, the food arrives. Eating with him is like having lunch with a doppelgänger. What are you too good for? He asks as I pick through my food. I don’t know, I shrug. This restaurant. This neighborhood. This mozzarella stick. Why? Because it peels away in layers but still leaves me wanting more…
A guy walks into a meaningless universe. He sees this gorgeous blonde sitting at the bar. It’s obvious she’s never read a word of Dostoevsky, much less Kierkegaard. So he says to her, “Is it meaningless in here, or is it just me?,” and she says, “My place or yours?”
