Chocolate
was not on the agenda, nor the menu, but she insisted, like
“go-back-to-the-kitchen” insisted, in a major-bitch-fit
insisted...........the kitchen, now closing, the staff frozen while the alert kitchen boy ran
out to the street, and rounded the corner. In the meantime, the staff
came awake and tried to look busy scurrying here and there accomplishing nothing, while the
the boy scooped up five snickers bars, two stale cookies, and a
fudge bar from the convenience store two doors away. Rushing back, the
lad was out of breath, but laden with possibilities. As the door
swung open, the kitchen staff exploded in a Tizzy worthy of a queen
and most happy for the distraction. Truth was, she was a spoiled, belligerent child of a family who encouraged and coddled her with a
casual, vacant, love, which was a curse from which she'd never
recover, struck down from the stresses of extreme indulgence
prematurely at a very early age.
But no
matter, the chocolate bars went in a saute pan, add crumbled cookies,
some nuts, some random fruit (pineapple & maraschino cherries rescued from the
bar), a splash of liqueur, topped with a semi-melted fudge bar,
whipped cream, and a...cherry.
Waaaa -
Lahhhhh!
They
all gathered 'round the family now reveling in the desert, smiling and laughing while charging an
additional $65 on top of a six hundred dinner tab. A fair trade, if
you can bear the annoyance. And by the time they finished
closing the kitchen that night, they'd not only forgotten, but their
laughter trailed down the empty streets with them, fading as they disbanded.
V
