Slinky Dress

Pin

See a pin, pick it up,
All day long you'll have a pin.

- Albert Feinstein -

The waitress rolled over to my table, leaking the occasional splash of oil. I looked at her pin, which is what we call a badge here in America. It said: Hi! I'm Martha. If you have any trouble with cockroaches, I will be pleased to assist. It was a large pin. It had once been a pie dish.

"Howdy doody Martha," I grote her. "Are you rootin' tootin'?"

Her eyes flashed and a jet of steam escaped from one nostril.

"Likes as maybe," she said in perfect Milwaukee Tennessee. I gave her my order.

"Brown hash, eggs too simple, panflakes and some more eggs, runny side up. Easy on the pips."

She pretended to write it down but we both knew she was illiterate.

"Have a nice day with that, sir?" she inquired.

I considered it. "Cworfee," I said. "Bring me cworfee; no sugar; two spoons."

"Cup with that, sir?" Her jaw was coming loose.

"Hold the cup," I instructed in industrial grade Native American. "Just bring me the saucer."

She had reached the end of the page and was doodling on her hand. For some reason she seemed reluctant to leave. Was it customary to tip, I wondered? She was on the point of tipping but righted herself by windmilling her arms, breaking one of the light fixtures.

"Baloney," she said. "Corsican faggots. Brown cow with fancy udders."

I never forgot her, nor did I ever forgive her.

Poplar

The Lombardy Poplar is a fine tree
If you like that sort of thing.

- Albert Feinstein -

The day I discovered the robots was a Tuesday. I had had them before. Sometimes I would mistake them for Wednesdays but more often than not I guessed them right. The robots were in a tree. I pretended not to notice. I concentrated on not treading on any cracks in the pavement.

"I beg your pardon," said one of the robots in a voice like silk knickers. "Could you please explain the coming total eclipse of the solar plexus? We are new to your planet and its constellations."

I ignored it. Whoever's species it was, it wasn't mine.

"Don't show us up," begged another robot, presumably talking to the first. "What will he think of us?"

I concentrated very hard on the cracks, which were beginning to show.

"I can't hold it in any longer," complained a third robot.

"You should have gone before we set off," snapped the second. "You'll have to wait until we stop for lunch."

"Are we there yet?" whined a fourth.

I ran, leaving the cracks to take care of themselves.

Slinky

Slinky dress, slinky dress,
All day long you'll look a mess.

- Albert Feinstein -

The waitress returned with my order. Most of it was upside down but I decided to settle for what I could get.

"Fine day they're having in Seattle," I commented.

"Tepid as a trout stream," she agreed. "Rancid as a rover."

I knew she hadn't understood a word she was saying but I let it pass. It didn't do to upset the domestics, they could turn ugly. Her jaw fell off and she scooted away to find some elastic rope.

I looked at my breakfast. After rearranging it into several equal-sized heaps I decided to save it for lunch. I called the waitress back to order some lunch to have for my breakfast. She returned with her jaw strapped in place. It wobbled as she rolled and her teeth clacked.

"I was born a wolf," I began, "but by the age of three I was certain. There can be no greater disruption to a child's life than to be sure, yet the signs were unmistakeable."

She wept and I tried my best to console her. It was the scientific way.

"We'll say no more about it," I assured her. "Just bring me meat, red and raw."

"Cook's off today," she sobbed. "There ain't nobody to chew the meat."

I've always admired honesty in a waitress. I wished there was some way to get it out.

Next thing I knew the robots were out of their tree and sitting beside me. It's always nice when a story ends that way.