diner nights and ghetto slang
March 17, 2003 12:39 a.m.
We piled back into the car, laughing without ceasing as Jessie yelled to Jamie (%%diary-ihavebangs%%) "You're not black! You're clear!" We drove though town, passing more than one seedy diner before settling for one completely new to us. For a diner, it was classy. The bright lighting and high ceilings added an atmosphere of more respectability than a mere diner deserved. Especially this diner.The hostess hurriedly tried to push together enough tables to seat us all. She tried to placate us with too strong iced tea while we waited for the waitress that never appeared. After nearly half an hour, our impatience had come to a head, and, for the first time, we walk out of a restaurant even before we've ordered.
We finally settled on another diner, and proceeded to cheer our waitress as she offered to open a room for us and treated us like queens for the rest of the night. Our laughter spilled out into the main dining room, prompting curious looks back into our corner as Jamie tried to kill us all, proving once again that vegans really do eat more fiber, and Sue made us laugh at the perversion of a male chicken finger. After nearly two hours of forking, spooning, and shrimping each other, we pile back into the cars and head for home.
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