Today's lunch at the Golden Corral will be my last. Everyone there knows me, especially Della, the waitress. Why would I leave and never go back, you ask. Here's why:
Della: Hi hon, how ya doin'?
Me: Aside from a small tiff with the supervisor, I'm doing fine.
Della: Can I pour you some more coffee?
Me: Sure. How's your day going?
Della: We're short staffed in the kitchen, Frank went home sick this morning.
Me: Oh the poor thing, did he have the flu or something?
Della: No, it was anthrax.
Me: CHECK PLEASE!
And the sad thing is, Della was dead serious.
Oh My!!
It is getting close!!!
Two Weeks Left!!!
And appropriately enough for this first week of fall,
He is the size of a pumpkin!!!
God Bless
9 years ago
2 comments:
OMG! are you serious? I haven't heard anything in the news...
She must be mistaken though. That doesn't make sense. Really...
Oh yeah, I knew I left something out. Della has a bad left ear. She may have heard one disease and thought it was anthrax. It did scare her pretty bad, though, she hadn't had a bowel movement all day...
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