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"Please don't say you're sorry..." |
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Tuesday, 24 October 2006 12:25 |
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Shortly before noon on Sunday, SML and I were sitting outside of a small restaurant off of thirteenth-south named, “Eggs in the City”. SML had suggested earlier that we go there for Brunch and that’s where we went. Because I will do anything that SML suggests; like park in the most difficult and furthest parking spot away from our destination because I can’t distinguish between ‘Serious SML’ and ‘Sarcastic SML’. And that, in a relationship, is POWER. I’ve never been to Eggs in the City before. I thought about taking Vernon with us since I could better pretend to be Carrie Bradshaw or a chic novelist from New York. But once we arrived, there weren’t any fancy clothes or mimosa’s as we waited in lawn chairs with the rest of the Salt Lake Valley. So SML and I discussed our options; like two girls fighting over whose hoop earrings were most eighties. It went something like this: Ken: “Maybe we should go to the Blue Plate. I like the Blue Plate.” SML: “Well you decide. It’s your day.” Ken: [insert shrill] “NO! It’s your Day. You said you wanted to come here!” SML: “I said I wanted to go to Crown Burger!” Ken: “You want to go to Crown Burger? Seriously?” And it went on. Back and forth in voices that resemble Terrance and Philip from South Park; but without the blatant use of the word Mother F@%!$. Ten minutes into our charade, a middle aged woman leaned over and mentioned that the Blue Plate had an hour and a half wait. You know, just in case that’s what we decided. So we went to Crown Burger.
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