The exercise:
Write about: double duty.
Since one of Kat's aunts is coming for dinner tomorrow night, we went out for dinner this evening to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary. The food was very good, the setting was lovely, and it was nice to have a night out without Max, who was busy having a blast in the garden with Kat's parents.
While we were eating dinner a group was seated at the table next to us. Their server did not fit the usual image of a waiter and he seemed a little unsure of himself. This became totally excusable when I overheard him explain to the group while he was pouring their wine that he's actually one of the chefs, but he was filling in because the restaurant has been short-staffed this week.
And thus, a writing prompt was born...
Mine:
"It's a nice truck, obviously."
"So what's the problem?"
"Well, I just don't understand why the price tag is so... steep."
"You mean like a mountain?"
"No, no. No. More along the lines of... expensive."
"The price tag isn't expensive. It's just a piece of cardboard I wrote the price on. I think I got it from an old cereal box. You can have it, if you want."
"No, not the... wow. Really? Okay. What I don't understand is why the truck is expensive. That's a lot of money you're asking for."
"Oh. Well, it's not just a truck, you know."
"It's not?"
"No sir! It also pulls double duty as a wildlife habitat. Come on, I'll pop the hood - you won't believe the number of snakes I've got living in there!"
2 comments:
Happy Anniversary!
Where did you go for dinner then? You've mentioned a couple of restaurants in the locality before, so was it one you supply with produce?
I'm a tiny bit surprised that a chef could be spared from the kitchen to work as a waiter, but it's definitely better than asking a waiter to work as a chef... :)
Heh, I'd buy that truck. Maybe Mr. Wiggles could take up residency in there as well! (I also very much like the way your salesman manages to misinterpret everything he's asks. Very creative!)
Double duty
Dr. Septopus stopped where he was, turned round, and counted. No, he hadn't made a mistake. There were two Green Lightbulbs sitting in the lounge of the Headquarters of the Council of Nastiness.
"Green?" he said, a little hesitantly. Had he left any experiments unattended recently? He didn't think so. Only one Lightbulb turned his head, and when he noticed that the other one was still watching the fishtank he got angry.
"Damn it, you're supposed to react as well!" yelled the first Green Lightbulb. He picked up a cushion and threw it at the other's head.
"What? My name's Darren."
"Your name is the Green Lightbulb! Why would I hire a double and then call him Darren? Darren's a girl's name!"
"You did what?" asked Dr. Septopus, bemused. The cushion flew back the other way.
"It's not a girl's name! My mother chose it!"
"Your mother was a whore!"
Dr. Septopus took a step back, and then another. A glass ashtray sailed through the air and landed in the fishtank with a splash, and he took a third.
"I'm right behind you," said Sylvestra, her voice seductive and chocolatey, like a honey-trap. "What's going on?"
"Green hired a double, apparently," said Dr. Septopus. "I don't know why, they've started fighting now."
"Over what?"
"I think it's over whether Darren is a girl's name or not," said Dr. Septopus. "It's hard to sure with Green."
Sylvestra sniffed. "Well the answer's obvious," she said.
Greg - thank you! We decided to try a new place this time. The meat was excellent, the veggies were lacking. Shame I have no interest in dealing with restaurants anymore.
Ah, Green. Though I have to say the idea of hiring a double intrigues me greatly...
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