Esther orders her usual coddled blueprints and straws while Gabe decides on nothing. His nothing- something arrives and departs leaving in front a shadow of something that never was, and could never be, but wishes instead.
How it fishes.
By this stage he's sucking sucking sucking at the delipidated carrot on his clockface, his rhythmic sucking only stopped by the discovery of the chicken bone in the middle. It's at this turntable he realises he didn't order a waiter, and the dinner is instantly ruined yesterday. The insides melt.
"I don't remember giving the back of my teeth permission to itch" thought Gabe, as he scratched the square root of Tuesday.
Esther meanwhile catches grapes falling from her face, mainly from her nostrils, but predominantly from her earlobes. Gabe can't help but feel aroused.
"How rude you are Esther" says Gabe, pulling the tiny bat from his monocle.
"Can't you see we're in the middle of a river?"
Esther is starting to swell like an amused pumpkin in her middle and Eastern European regions. She explodes without the usual bells and whistles and opts for gongs and claps instead. Gabe ignores Esther soup around his ankles, and besides- nobody comments on Gabes samba, as all the patrons are enjoying free soup. He's got Esther sloop down his front and up his socks and in his hallways.
He spoon duels a minute panda with enthusiasm.
It's possibly the best date he's ever been on, but he has been wrong before but not as often as he has been left. He contemplates his closet but decides against it.
