... ..a breakfast story ....June 8, 2006   Having spent the weekend at Lake Rosemound celebrating my nephew's 21st birthday, I stopped for breakfast at a diner in nearby St. Francisville before returning home.  My nephew's birthday was actually June 6 so, naturally, the surprise party had a Book Of Revelations theme.  I hadn't seen so many Anti-Christs since the GOP convention.  Anyway, thinking about the Apocalypse has always made me hungry and this was no exception.  I was famished and I felt like I could eat the liver of a parish priest. When I first spotted my mother's ex-husband-who-wasn't-my-father sauntering into the Bird Man Diner, my heart sank.  The place was small and there was nowhere to hide.  Still, the thought of speaking to such a preeminent douchebag quickened my pulse and stimulated my creative juices.  I scooped up a handful of grits and, raising them to my face, fashioned a beard, or rather, a goatee reminiscent of Harland Sanders.  Using strawberry preserves as adhesive, I attached to each eyebrow a strip of crispy bacon.  As I fumbled with my breakfast to complete the disguise, the waitress seated my mother's ex-husband at an adjacent table.  Our eyes met and his appraisal of me lasted for what seemed like an eternity; but he never recognized me. So I stood, doffed my toast hat, and took my leave. previous..|..current..|..archives..|..2d quarter index..|..next

©  2006 by the beastmaster