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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Sundae bloody sundae

The other night after dinner, we went to a local ice cream parlor for sundaes.

It was an acid trip without the drugs.

The counterperson turned around, and asked us what we wanted. I was so mesmerized by her snaggleteeth and pointy nose, I was stunned silent. I couldn�t help thinking of that horrible show, The Swan? Where they surgically morph some unsightly human specimen into something attractive? Those teeth! They needed more than a simple dentist.

Me: We�d like two medium hot fudge sundaes with vanilla ice cream.

Snaggletooth: Whfhydg dbf z nghufty lskuipoenfjf lhrfahhdgd.

Me: (only recognizing the last few sounds of this utterance) Uh, ok, I guess we�ll get larges, then.

Snaggletooth: No, (more emphatically) whfhydg dbf z nghufty lskuipoenfjf lhrfahhdgd.

Me: Hmmm. Excuse me?

Snaggletooth: We don't have soft.

Me: You mean, you have mediums then?

Snaggletooth: No, we only have hard right now.

Me: I�m confused. Hard?

Snaggletooth: We don�t have soft ice cream right now. Only hard.

I looked up and noticed that sure enough, the soft-serve machines were being cleaned.

Me: Oh, so you have regular ice cream? Ok, yeah, that�s what we want.

Snaggletooth: whipped cream and a cherry?

Me: Of course.

The combination of bad fluorescent lighting, the smell of old refrigeration, screaming kids and their louder-and-rounder-than-thou parents made us feel like aliens.

Snaggletooth: To stay or to go?

Me: (Incredulous. What the fuck do you think, kid?) To go. (Duh!)

We got home so fast, the cherries were still perched on the whipped cream and �hard� ice cream was barely melted.

1:14 p.m. - 2004-04-28

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