Slurping Vinegar (åƒé†‹)
I – THE REAL (well, kind of)
[It’s 7 o’clock on a Friday; Ferret and Jack Daniels are trying to get a table at Shanghai’s most popular Mexican restaurant, a spectacular hit of burritos, beans and salsa, maker of the most muchos nachos this side of the Pu River, but all for nothing! The owner, Agavecado has some bad news:]
Agavecado
I’m sorry gentleman, but all the tables are reserved.
Jack Daniels
How long is the wait?
Agavecado
Well, I guess around 9 o’clock. Unless you guys want to eat at the bar.
Ferret
You guys are that popular now, eh? Holy mole!
[There is silence as this most terrible of puns works its way into the pores of the poor listeners. (Sorry.) A girl nearby sniggers slightly on a taco. Ferret tries to extricate himself from the situation:]
Ferret
You know, like mole. Like tacos.
Jack Daniels
Sheesh. [to the owner] I’m not sure about the bar thing, but don’t be sorry, man. You must be happy as hell! You’re business is taking off!
Agavecado
Well, thanks, but to tell you the truth, I don’t like the whole reservation thing; it wasn’t my idea.
Ferret
No matter. Next time we’re here, we’ll just have to get a reservation.
Jack Daniels
You should seriously just buy out the coffee shop next door, or something.
Agavecado
Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ve definitely wish I’d arranged something with the Italian restaurant next door. They never use that downstairs at all. I guess it’s supposed to be a bar for people waiting to eat, but they never use it.
Jack Daniels
Not doing so well, eh?
Agavecado
I guess not. It’s funny we used to be such good friends during the construction of the place. They were building their spot at the same time. Now I just see them from time to time standing outside, glaring at the restaurant.
Ferret
Wow. Even out in the cold and everything.
Agavecado
Yeah. So the bar then?
Jack Daniels
I think we’d prefer to sit, so we’ll go somewhere else.
Ferret
Yeah man. Next time!
Agavecado
Sorry again. You fellas have a good night.
II – THE ABSOLUTELY IMAGINARY
[Sweets and Lifey, owners of the Italian restaurant next to Agavecado‘s sit outside, staring at the busy Mexican restaurant. It’s cold, like cryogenically freezing your privates cold. They don’t seem to mind. They have a bitter look on their faces as they take turns passing and swigging for a bottle of wine.]
Sweets
This wine is terrible.
Lifey
It’s not wine.
Sweets
Well, what the hell else do you drink from a wine bottle?
Lifey
Well, it used to be wine.
Sweets
What do you mean?
Lifey
I couldn’t afford to buy any new wine.
Sweets
So?
Lifey
So the only wine we have left is the stuff I use to make the vinegar.
Sweets
[contemplates the bottle as he takes a swig]
Man, I must really be drunk.
Lifey
Yeah.
Sweets
Burritos.
Lifey
Who knew.
Sweets
I never thought of that kind of stuff as food, just a bad case of gas.
Lifey
Or indigestion.
Sweets
That taco tucking turd. He’s doing so well…
Lifey
Bean bashing bastard.
Sweets
Nacho nibbling nigger.
Lifey
Tequilla toting twat.
Sweet
I like that one.
Lifey
Yeah. We should add it to the list.
[Lifey pulls out a small notebook from his oh-so-Italian, close-cut sports coat, and adds the name to the list. Sweets looks over his shoulder in delight as he writes it. They notice that Agavecado is looking at them from the door of his restaurant. They smile and wave. Agavecado awkwardly returns it, unsure how to handle the maliciousnes behind their smiles. He walks away from the door.]
Sweets
Mole making motherfucker. Lifey give me the wine.
Lifey
You sure you still want it? I mean, it’s basically vinegar.
Sweets
Fine. Whatever. This bastard’s got me drinking vinegar.