My friend Thomas texted me around 10.30 last night, bored and looking for something to do.
I was just settled into bed and watching an episode of Lost[golly hell, that show is addictive]. However, Thomas and I rarely see each other, and I figured I've been reclusive enough lately to warrant doing something in the middle of the night.
My friend Thomas is a funny guy. At various points during our friendship, he has hit a fish with a firecracker, a bird in flight with a rock, and a person fifty feet away with a snowball. He mentioned to me last night that he wants to "lasso a deer and paint it". So when he came over, we sat in front of my laptop and looked at some funny pictures. Thomas tends to shake with laughter at the term "wrinkle-free horse pants".
We then set off in search of somewhere a) open at midnight and b) serving coffee.
The Pennyroyal Cafe in Provo was closed. Again. The anger this causes me may require a backstory at some point. Just keep your advertised hours, you "hipster" "indie" "bistro".
So we went to Denny's. There, we experienced a treat of a waiter waitress server.
Tall. Husky, or maybe a better word would be "robust". Hispanic, with long curly hair. Lisping.
Its name was Arely.
As Thomas described it, "Like Mrs. Doubtfire, only less funny. Just sad."
I don't think anything makes you feel worse about yourself than uncontrollable giggles at the way a perfectly nice person who may or may not be a transvestite pronounces "mayonnaise".
Karma is coming to get us, Thomas. Keep an eye out.