Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Beef

Sean is standing in line at the Mongolian buffet table. He has a bowl of rice in one hand, and a pair of chopsticks in the other. In front of him is a woman of advanced age, who's navigating the meat section. The following conversation ensues.


Old Lady: Excuse me.

Sean: Yes?

O: (Points towards a tray of raw meat.) What's this?

S: (Glances.) Oh, that's the beef.

O: Thank you.

...

...

...

O: Excuse me, but what's this?

S: (Glances.) It's beef.

O: Thank you.

...

...

O: What's this?

S: (Glances, gives a curious look.) That's the beef.

O: Thank you.

...

...

O: What's this?

S: (Stares.) Beef.

O: Thank you.

...

...

O: Excuse me, but what's this?

S: (Completely exasperated by now.) It's the b... you know what? That's chicken.

O: Are you sure? It looks like beef.

(Sean
says nothing, and just walks away.)


.

No comments: