Anyway, I made the mistake of sliding the newspaper/salt shaker centerpiece aside and sitting down to enjoy my lunch. Well, Barb (code name: Barbed Wire) just couldn't let me get away with that. She came over, sweet as nails,"Excuse me dear, could I have my paper back? We thought we'd be able to save this table but…well, that paper belongs to my friend."
Well, I for one am sick of it. Next week I'm going to take up a whole big table all to myself. I'm going to take two, no, three brownie bites from the tray. I'm going to put out a napkin and a couple grains of salt and call it saving a table.
It's on ladies. Bring it. It….is…ON.