The food is cold
There was this restaurant I frequented. The food was always good. The service, OUTSTANDING, and the entertainment, always unpredictable and amusing.Now, when I go, it seems, the place is empty. There is the place at the bar where the regulars sit, and the barmaid always leans forward to bear her aged cleavage for bigger tips. The regulars' conversation invade my space, and I can't hear the voice of my friend, or even hear the entertainment. Louder and louder their voices become, round and round with the same topic.
The bar voice, infamous and loud while bar ears grow deafer and deafer.
After awhile, the food was delivered. And it was cold. Stone cold. The juices coagulated on my chicken filet, an amber jelly that stuck to the inside of my throat. The wine was turned vinegar, the beer without a head, and while dining, a cockroach skittered across the top of my foot.
All this, but I have not given up on my favorite restaurant.
Morgen, wanna go for some cold chicken and flat beer?
Comments (9)
Once again Brilliant.......
If i had to guess this poem was about CS blogs?
keep the faith sister...
Bex
You're invited too.
Hope you are doing well.
I am a bit under the weather but doing good.
Thanks for the invite.
And being a member of Save The Roach,I hope you didn't Stamp on it!!
You know me, I only kill what I want to eat. BTW you're invited too. It's open mic night.