Deborah 13
Just as the waiter is clearing away our main course dishes, a breathless voice sounds on the TV, "good evening, sports fans, this is your local news reporter pre-empting the game."
Someone calls out, "that's the Dragon," and a hush falls over the diner.
"I'm here at the Dragon Bar, well half a block away actually. Through the magic of telephoto, I'm bringing you live action. See, those are little green men, Aliens, and they're abducting all the drinkers. Let's zoom in for a closeup."
The camera focuses on a bleary eyed Native drunk, whose jacket bears the logo First Nations Drywall Project.
"Ah ha," the clergyman asserts, "am I right or what? We know for sure where Roger is now."
"Oh shut up, you fat self-righteous pig," his wife replies, "ever since you quit drinking, you're the most tedious windbag in this entire town."
Loudly he replies, "and you, b****, just uptight, because now you hafta behave, be a minister's wife."
The waiter approaches, says quietly, "please, patrons are watching the news. Either keep it down or step outside a moment."
"Too bloody right, sunshine," the woman says, grabbing hubby's collar, "we'll be outside."
Through the window I see them shouting at each other.
The waiter whispers to me, "how phony can they get?"
"How so?"
He laughs easily, "take a good look at that TV. Now everyone knows the Dragon owner plays poker with that crazy bunch of Jewish hackers. Obvious publicity stunt, take the boyos for a ride in the bus."
"Since when do bars need publicity stunts?'
He gasps, "sister, you been away on a trip? All that religion sweeping through, Dragon is the only bar left in town, Native bar I mean."
"You mean to say all those Aliens are just holograms?"
"Of course, but do me a favor, don't let on I said. See lotsa people in here believe all this stuff."
I put my finger over my lip and he winks conspiratorially.
A few minutes later, the happy couple returns, we order dessert.
Reverend smiles happily, "and that is the end of all the trouble in our fair city. You see, I prayed for that to happen."
I grooan inwardly and the woman rolls her eyes.
Someone calls out, "that's the Dragon," and a hush falls over the diner.
"I'm here at the Dragon Bar, well half a block away actually. Through the magic of telephoto, I'm bringing you live action. See, those are little green men, Aliens, and they're abducting all the drinkers. Let's zoom in for a closeup."
The camera focuses on a bleary eyed Native drunk, whose jacket bears the logo First Nations Drywall Project.
"Ah ha," the clergyman asserts, "am I right or what? We know for sure where Roger is now."
"Oh shut up, you fat self-righteous pig," his wife replies, "ever since you quit drinking, you're the most tedious windbag in this entire town."
Loudly he replies, "and you, b****, just uptight, because now you hafta behave, be a minister's wife."
The waiter approaches, says quietly, "please, patrons are watching the news. Either keep it down or step outside a moment."
"Too bloody right, sunshine," the woman says, grabbing hubby's collar, "we'll be outside."
Through the window I see them shouting at each other.
The waiter whispers to me, "how phony can they get?"
"How so?"
He laughs easily, "take a good look at that TV. Now everyone knows the Dragon owner plays poker with that crazy bunch of Jewish hackers. Obvious publicity stunt, take the boyos for a ride in the bus."
"Since when do bars need publicity stunts?'
He gasps, "sister, you been away on a trip? All that religion sweeping through, Dragon is the only bar left in town, Native bar I mean."
"You mean to say all those Aliens are just holograms?"
"Of course, but do me a favor, don't let on I said. See lotsa people in here believe all this stuff."
I put my finger over my lip and he winks conspiratorially.
A few minutes later, the happy couple returns, we order dessert.
Reverend smiles happily, "and that is the end of all the trouble in our fair city. You see, I prayed for that to happen."
I grooan inwardly and the woman rolls her eyes.
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 10:24 AM
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