11th
Anniversary
I ordered some lunch from Pete’s Tavern on the corner of 17th St. today, but arrived to pick it up before my food was ready. The manager, an older man with fine white hair and fake tan, told me to take a seat at the bar.
The television at the end of the dining room was on Fox News, but the sound was muted. The picture was of some red and yellow hurricane approaching Texas. Names were scrolling on the bottom of the screen, like this:
Bob Smith…Fox News…Sarah Jones….Fox News… John Stuart… Fox News…
A waiter in front of me suddenly ran up to the manager.
“John,” he said, patting the manager on the back of the shirt. “Joanna’s name just went by.”
“Oh,” the manager said, glancing up to the television for a moment. “Ok.”
The waiter patted him on the back a few more times, and the manager took some arriving patrons to a table in the back.
