First lunch
such a fiasco. How do you
fuck up a dish like that?
It’s always good anywhere.
Left most everything
on the plate. We paid. We
tipped. But really, bring out
the chef, I’d like to imagine
giving him a piece of my mind.
Second lunch quieter. Less
talk, more rumination. Guilt
about the bills, two checks one
day. Just for lunch! So much
can go wrong, how do you
control for that? But now
full, finally, and we must
forget or it would just
drive you crazy. Always
disappointments rear.
But I’ll try. We’ll try.
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