Stain and I walk along the path once more, which now weaves between buildings. We’re almost downtown.

I poke Stain sharply between the ribs. “Hey, hungry.”

“Cool cool. Let’s just check if the t-shirt place is open yet.”

I get louder. “Hungry.”

“There are a ton of restaurants right near the t-shirt shop.”

“Hungry now. Eat now.”

“All right fat boy, chill out. We’ll stop somewhere.”

“I will stab your eyes out.”

“Calm blue ocean man. Calm blue ocean. Why so mad?”

“I’m hangry, and don’t calm blue ocean me again, or I’ll see how many fists I can fit in your wee wee hole.”

Stain nervously laughs, but lucky for him, he knows every restaurant in the city. He leads us a bit off the path to a 24 hour place. His wee wee is safe for another day.

We’re seated inside a chain restaurant. Every second item on the menu has some type of pun in the name. They must have thought they were clever when deriving this foolishness. A waitress with brown hair and lightly tanned skin comes over and writes ‘Smurfette’ on the brownish paper that’s draped over the table. “Hi guys. I’m Smurfette. I’ll be serving you today. Do you have any questions or would you like to order something to drink right away? Tea and Coffee are free with breakfast.”

Stain looks up from his menu. “I’m Stain and this is Sappho.”

“Are those your real names?”

Stain smiles. “Is Smurfette your real name?”

Before she gets a chance to answer, I speak up. “I would like a cup of green tea and whatever you can get me that has the most eggs, meat, and potatoes possible.”

Smurfette is young and very pretty. She smiles at me, and I find it impossible not to smile back. “That would be the Sl-Ham it out of the Park. Are you good with scrambled eggs?”

“Yes.”

“White or whole wheat toast?”

“No toast. Thank you.”

Stain looks up from his menu again. He points. “What’s country gravy?”

Smurfette responds. “It’s a thick white gravy that people eat with biscuits and sausages.”

Stain looks a bit disgusted by this. “Thick white gravy? What’s it made of?”

Smurfette looks puzzled. “I’m not sure. I can ask.”

I shake my head. “That’s all right. Country gravy is made using milk as the base.”

Stain looks even more disgusted. “Are you sure that’s milk? Look at the consistency in the picture.”

Smurfette is about to leave. “I’ll go ask.”

I shake my head again. “That’s OK. It’s milk. I’m sure of it.”

Stain scratches behind his ear with one eye closed. “I don’t think that’s cow’s milk. Maybe bull’s milk.”

Smurfette looks at him without missing a beat. “Bull’s milk, gross. Well, I guess if you want a high protein breakfast.”

Stain points again. “Well what’s a country fried steak?”

Before Smurfette gets a chance to respond, I take Stain’s menu and hand it to her. “He’ll have a coffee, and please get him whatever meal has the most pancakes possible. While you’re at it, you can give him the toast that I didn’t want from my breakfast. Just give him the first thing that pops out of the toaster. It doesn’t matter what color it is. Thank you.”

Smurfette looks at Stain to make sure this is all right. Stain nods his head and grabs my hand, faking a very offensive effeminate lisp. “Sometimes he orders for me. He’s dominant in public but submissive in private.”

Smurfette nods with her eyes gaping wide open. “I’ll uh, get you your orders.”

Son of Sappho Stain and Sappho , , ,

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