One Table Over: I-HOP

He has his food. He has his food, and he's almost finished eating. That is how long he's had his food.

I got here first, but he got a waitress before I got a waitress. He got his drink
and his food, and, now that I'm looking, he's gotten his check as well!

I got a cup of coffee.

I ordered some chicken strips, but I haven't seen them. Neither have I seen the perky blond waitress who took my order.

My menu is still sitting on the edge of the table awaiting removal.

I've checked Facebook and Blogger and started browsing Pinterest, and he's over there trying to decide how much tip to leave.

Do you know what they do at I-HOP? They leave a thermal pitcher full of coffee at your table just in case you drain your cup before you see your waitress again. I've had three cups of coffee.

Oh, yippee. There's my waitress. She's coming up the aisle. She sees me looking, but she avoids my eyes. And there she goes...

He's gone. His table has been cleared and wiped and reseated.

Ah...here she is! With a plate of...(drum roll, please)...somebody else's food! Oh, honey, that's not mine. I ordered chicken strips. (You did?) uh huh...

The new folks over there are passing the time telling lame jokes as they nibble their appetizer.

A three-legged dog walks into a bar and says, "I'm lookin' for the man who shot my paw."

Hahaha! Hilarious.

How does a man on the moon cut his hair? Eclipse it!

Wait. I got one.

Where does a one-legged man work?

I-HOP.

(I crack me up.)

Match the Symbols to Win the Prize

Matthew, Slave #4, moved out, yet again, and I am alone in the house.

Empty nest. (Empty refrigerator, empty closet, empty garage...)

No kids, no grandkids, no roommate, no lover. (Nobody to wash the dishes or mow the lawn either, 'cause you know I ain't doin' that shit.)

All alone (at long last). To celebrate, I hauled all the couch pillows out of the closet and put them back on the couches, just so, and there they have remained, because there are no hoards of teenagers moving things to the side to make room for popcorn and PS3s.

The place is a mess, and it's desperate for some attention, but my priorities are elsewhere. I'm supposed to be writing in my journal for my Creative Writing class. My Dystopian Lit professor wants us to be writing a chapter of "fan-fiction" for Orwell's Animal Farm. I need to read three chapters of U.S. Government, and I need to study for my Spanish test that is taking place today.

On top of that, I need to educate myself about the wonders of dry, aged, prime beef, because my job description may finally be changing at work. I heard a rumor that I might have to buy a knife. (They're going to let me play with the knives, people. Don't try to say you haven't been warned.)

Here's a dilemma. Yesterday, I found some trash on the floor at work. I slipped it into my pocket, because it wasn't nasty, just a slip of paper-like stuff that didn't belong on the floor. Hours later, at home, I pulled it out of my pocket and realized it was a winning scratch-off lottery ticket. FIFTY BUCKS.

 I called the manager to see if anybody had reported it to Lost and Found, but, to his knowledge nobody had. Now I'm stuck here with Bad Karma on my hands, knowing that some poor soul is out fifty bucks because I was too stupid to realize what it was when I saw it lying there on the floor. I need to find a place for it. I need to give it back out to the universe in the form of Good Karma, but I'm not quite sure how to go about it.

Should I give it all to one person? Or should I split it up into two, or maybe five little prizes for the first people I see today? Maybe I'll give it all to the clerk who cashes the ticket for me? Maybe I'll give it as a tip to a waitress somewhere? AUUGGHH!!! There are so many people who would truly benefit if they just had fifty extra bucks in their pocket. (I know the feeling. I used to be one of those people.)

Now I'm on the other side of that fifty bucks, and I have no idea how to behave.

It doesn't matter right now, though, because I have to study for that Spanish test...right after I mow the lawn.


Additional note: $20 to the clerk who cashed the ticket. (I didn't watch her expression. I just walked away.)
 $20 to the guy with a bucket on Bell Street collecting for Human Trafficking Prevention.$10 to St. Jude's Children's Hospital when I ate lunch at Chili's.