Woody Caribou, the famous French philosopher once said: “No sir. I ain’t paying ten bucks for a Tartiflette that I happen to know for sure is just a bunch of french fries that you and your hipster buddies have smeared philadelphia cheese over with your sweaty hands. Give me some onion soup.”
I’m walking along a crowded boulevard. It’s daytime. The light is piercing, seering through to the back of my skull. I put on my hat and shades and try to convince myself it’s night. There’s a coffee shop just up ahead. I duck inside.
“Give me a cappucino, make it strong”
“Do you want chocolate on that?”
“What kind of chocolate?”
“We got 40 types.”
“Well that really is a surprise. Here’s an idea: Why don’t you pick one, sprinkle it on the coffee, take my money, smile, but not too much, then hand me the coffee and let me drink it.”
The guy introduces himself as Zack. He’s talking in a phony 1930’s style New York accent. Sounds ridiculous. He’s wearing a beard that even Amish folk would find a little passé. What a joker.
I finish my coffee and step back out into the agony of day. How do people live like this?
I walk maybe a hundred yards when I see an electronic cigarette store. This should be pretty straightforward.
“Yeah I want a bottle of e-liquid, blueberry flavor.”
“Do you want blueberry surprise, blueberry kiss, blueberry hill……………….”
The guy’s wearing the same beard as the guy at the coffee shop, except …. this one’s ginger.
“Just plain blueberry. Say, are there any barber shops in this town?”
Next thing I’m in some kinda cafe. The guy behind the counter is wearing a red checked shirt, tight jeans. His beard is twirled at the ends with pink striped ribbons holding it all together.
“Is this the lumber store?”
“This is a cafe. I find your attitude extremely aggressive and hurtful.”
“Yeah I need some nails and a couple pieces of wood, about six feet long. Oh and give me some onion soup. Make that French.”