Meatballs (Volume 102, June-October, 2009)
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Monday evening Cheryl brought a frame over for a cement marker for Shawn’s grave. She’s taking advantage of our cement pour for our addition. She’s also leaving for Ireland next week.
We took her out to dinner at Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut has their buffet every night now.
We requested veggie pizzas. They screwed up Cheryl’s request by putting olives on hers instead of mushrooms. The manager said he wouldn’t charge her for her meal. Cheryl said, “How about if you just bring me some sautéed mushrooms?” She took forever to pick every olive off her pizza pieces. The manager brought her the mushrooms and sat next to her for a moment, jovially apologizing. She didn’t even notice his name — “Shawn.”
Ellis got spaghetti and meatballs. He had leftovers he wanted to take home. He had made two piles of noodles on his plate, each of which was topped by a big chunk of meatball. Ellis said to our cute, small, hispanic waitress, “Here we have Boomer, and here we have Katie’s. Can I get a container to go?”
The waitress replied, “You named your meatballs?”