"It's on me."
Ralph politely began with a hamburger, plain.
"Nothing to drink?"
Ralph shook his head no.
His hamburger arrived. Grover reached across the table and removed the top half of its bun. "Nobody," he said, "eats a burger naked." He piled on top ketchup, mustard, relish, a tomato slice from his own cheeseburger super deluxe, a few rings of onion, five French fries.
"That's good!" Ralph said; and when Grover ordered a black-and-white ice cream soda, Ralph shyly did too. And when Grover
ordered a fried clam plate and a Salisbury steak, just for fun, Ralph ordered a list of side dishes — onion rings, potato salad, coleslaw. Plus a chocolate milkshake. "What the heck," said Grover, approvingly. Ralph laughed. They ate at whim, taking a bite here, a bite there. When their table was full of plates, they moved to another one, where they ordered desserts — apple pie, cherry pie. Black Forest cake.
Ralph groaned. 'Tm full."
Grover roared, "I say we order more!"
"Nonono," Ralph protested, thinking, fleetingly, Typical American wasteful.
But when Grover ordered bacon and eggs, Ralph did too. It was a game. French toast. English muffins. German pancakes.
"We're going to have to haul it all home," said Grover, "in a doggie bag."
"A doggie bag!" Ralph laughed. Everything had begun to seem funny.
"What haven't we ordered," wondered Grover.
Ralph roared. "Chinese pancakes!" he said. "How come there are no Chinese pancakes!"
"Good point. How astute of you," Grover burped.
Ralph belched. Grover loosened his belt a notch. Ralph loosened his belt and undid the button of his pants, saying, "Hope the waitress can't see."
"And so what if she does?"
"We tell her we're just get comfortable."
"We'll tell her," winked Grover, "that we're getting comfortable, so she better watch out."
Ralph roared again. Wliat an adventure! He pried off his shoes; loosened his collar; slumped in his seat like an opium smoker. He was glad, though, that the waitress was nowhere to be seen; and when Grover, getting restless, suggested that they simply go back into the kitchen to see what was left that they hadn't tried, Ralph hesitated before padding after him, holding his pants up with his hand.
The waitress reappeared. "Ah," said Grover. "We were just
saying how we were getting comfortable, you'd better watch out." >
"Were you?" To Ralph's surprise, she did not blush.
Grover caressed her earlobe. "Nice earring you've got there."
She giggled. He pulled her to him.
"What do you say?" Grover winked at Ralph again. "To the kitchen?" Hands on the waitress's hips, he began to walk her like a puppet in front of him.
"Ah," said Ralph. Then suddenly polite, "Nononono."
He drifted back to the dining room alone, buttoning his pants. Flies buzzed over the tables of half-eaten food. One got stuck in some orange pancake syrup. Ralph tried the counter stools, one after another, for squeaks. Then the booths, for spring. In, out. From the kitchen came the sound of pots thrown to the floor. Cronng. Dishes smashing — ack! ackk! asssh! Then laughter. What were they doing that they laughed as they did it? He and Helen never laughed. More dishes. Screeches. He counted the ceiling lights. Then came what sounded like sobbing. Sobbing? Ralph shook his head to himself. Who was going to clean up later? And what about the dishes? And who was going to pay for all the food? Somebody, he thought, was going to have to pay, and though Grover had insisted all along that he would, Ralph began to wonder now if he was going to have to pay too.
He was brooding about whether to call home when Grover emerged, dusting himself off, though he didn't look dusty. "What a mess," Grover said.
Ralph heard the metallic scrape of a car starting up outside — the waitress, leaving.
Grover surveyed the dining room. Morose, he examined his hands. "So." His vest was open, his shirt rumpled and misbut-toned, his carnation wilted.
"So," said Ralph.
Grover felt his pants pocket
Ralph politely began with a hamburger, plain.
"Nothing to drink?"
Ralph shook his head no.
His hamburger arrived. Grover reached across the table and removed the top half of its bun. "Nobody," he said, "eats a burger naked." He piled on top ketchup, mustard, relish, a tomato slice from his own cheeseburger super deluxe, a few rings of onion, five French fries.
"That's good!" Ralph said; and when Grover ordered a black-and-white ice cream soda, Ralph shyly did too. And when Grover
ordered a fried clam plate and a Salisbury steak, just for fun, Ralph ordered a list of side dishes — onion rings, potato salad, coleslaw. Plus a chocolate milkshake. "What the heck," said Grover, approvingly. Ralph laughed. They ate at whim, taking a bite here, a bite there. When their table was full of plates, they moved to another one, where they ordered desserts — apple pie, cherry pie. Black Forest cake.
Ralph groaned. 'Tm full."
Grover roared, "I say we order more!"
"Nonono," Ralph protested, thinking, fleetingly, Typical American wasteful.
But when Grover ordered bacon and eggs, Ralph did too. It was a game. French toast. English muffins. German pancakes.
"We're going to have to haul it all home," said Grover, "in a doggie bag."
"A doggie bag!" Ralph laughed. Everything had begun to seem funny.
"What haven't we ordered," wondered Grover.
Ralph roared. "Chinese pancakes!" he said. "How come there are no Chinese pancakes!"
"Good point. How astute of you," Grover burped.
Ralph belched. Grover loosened his belt a notch. Ralph loosened his belt and undid the button of his pants, saying, "Hope the waitress can't see."
"And so what if she does?"
"We tell her we're just get comfortable."
"We'll tell her," winked Grover, "that we're getting comfortable, so she better watch out."
Ralph roared again. Wliat an adventure! He pried off his shoes; loosened his collar; slumped in his seat like an opium smoker. He was glad, though, that the waitress was nowhere to be seen; and when Grover, getting restless, suggested that they simply go back into the kitchen to see what was left that they hadn't tried, Ralph hesitated before padding after him, holding his pants up with his hand.
The waitress reappeared. "Ah," said Grover. "We were just
saying how we were getting comfortable, you'd better watch out." >
"Were you?" To Ralph's surprise, she did not blush.
Grover caressed her earlobe. "Nice earring you've got there."
She giggled. He pulled her to him.
"What do you say?" Grover winked at Ralph again. "To the kitchen?" Hands on the waitress's hips, he began to walk her like a puppet in front of him.
"Ah," said Ralph. Then suddenly polite, "Nononono."
He drifted back to the dining room alone, buttoning his pants. Flies buzzed over the tables of half-eaten food. One got stuck in some orange pancake syrup. Ralph tried the counter stools, one after another, for squeaks. Then the booths, for spring. In, out. From the kitchen came the sound of pots thrown to the floor. Cronng. Dishes smashing — ack! ackk! asssh! Then laughter. What were they doing that they laughed as they did it? He and Helen never laughed. More dishes. Screeches. He counted the ceiling lights. Then came what sounded like sobbing. Sobbing? Ralph shook his head to himself. Who was going to clean up later? And what about the dishes? And who was going to pay for all the food? Somebody, he thought, was going to have to pay, and though Grover had insisted all along that he would, Ralph began to wonder now if he was going to have to pay too.
He was brooding about whether to call home when Grover emerged, dusting himself off, though he didn't look dusty. "What a mess," Grover said.
Ralph heard the metallic scrape of a car starting up outside — the waitress, leaving.
Grover surveyed the dining room. Morose, he examined his hands. "So." His vest was open, his shirt rumpled and misbut-toned, his carnation wilted.
"So," said Ralph.
Grover felt his pants pocket
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