Hi honey. I can see you’ve got your feet up. A well-deserved respite, certainly. Let me just say how proud I am of you for completing the 5K. You’ve trained so hard for that and made it to the finish line. That’s just remarkable. Your hubby can’t wait to brag to everyone down at the station.
Now, don’t you get up. Stay right where you are, because I have something I know you’ve been craving. That’s right, I’ve got your mango-pineapple smoothie right here for you, see. Let me tell you, while you were in the shower I’ve had a heck of a time with this thing. I could have sworn I’ve made a smoothie before. Like riding a bicycle, I thought I could easily pick it back up. Well, I assumed wrong.
First, I realize I got the tropical fruit mix that has those bananas you don’t like. And when I cut open the bag, it’s like the frozen fruit has a mind of its own, spilling and scattering all over the countertop. I have to stop Mittens after he hops up and starts playing with them. Little fella’s reeling from that cat nip.
Anyway, once I get all the fruit in the blender, you see, that’s when I get the juice. The juice! Believe it or not, honey, I’d just finished the juice this morning before your run. I was so clumsy I thought nothing of it. In my mind, there was another carton in the fridge. Boy was I wrong. It’s a good thing you took a well-deserved nap after your post-run shower. You probably heard me scrambling out the driveway to zip over to the super. Fortunately, they had enough juice in stock.
Well, when I get back, you’re just waking up—which is a good thing, as I’d forgotten how loud our blender can be. Now, maybe next Christmas we buy a new one, something quieter. I get my fifteenth-year detective’s increase, and though it’s not much, I can tell that with this running kick you’re on, you’ll want a whole boatload of smoothies.
Anyway, before you dive into this icy yellow concoction, let me tell you the time I had. I click the button on our blender and whamo! There goes juice and fruit chunks all over the kitchen. I’d forgotten to put the lid on the thing! Ah, geeze.
You can imagine what an imbecile I think of myself. Have no fear, hubby Columbo can be quick when he wants to. Like a 200 meter dash, I’m sponging, cleaning, sanitizing—even wiping down Mittens. Poor guy got covered in tropical detritus. He’ll be busy licking himself for the foreseeable future. I know you’ll soon be down to settle in your spot on the couch. A well-deserved settle, honey, I might add. This is when you probably heard the blender go off, again—this time with the lid on!
Now, mid-blend something dawns on me. I notice an odd ratio between frozen fruit and juice. Could it be that I’ve mixed them up? I can see by your nodding that you know me all too well. Instead of 2 cups of fruit to 1 cup of juice, I flipped it. So essentially, instead of a smoothie, I’m making you a more refined juice! Columbo, you klutz.
Don’t worry, honey. While you’re putting your feet up, I am rectifying the situation. I’m adding more fruit, making sure to take out the banana chunks you don’t like. To get the consistency just right, I’m hitting all the blender buttons—“mix,” “blend,” “churn,” and “whip.” Honey, this time I think I’ve done it. Why don’t you take a sip?
Uh oh. I can tell by the sour face I left bananas in there, didn’t I? You know, I must’ve thrown out the mangos and kept the bananas, instead. They both look practically identical when they’re frozen. Oh, I’m sorry, honey. What’s that you got? Is that—what is that you’ve found? Ah, geeze. That must be a wood chunk from the end of our wooden spoon I used at the top to help mix the blender’s contents. The blades must have scraped a few pieces off. I didn’t think it’d be that big of a piece.
Well, this has been a disaster. And I know you were looking forward to my making you a smoothie all week. I don’t know why you put up with me—after such a poor reward for your hard-earned accomplishment. I’ll tell you what, honey. How ...

“Donald Trump’s new social media venture, Truth Social, appears set to launch in Apple’s App Store on Monday, according to posts from an executive on a test version viewed by Reuters, potentially marking the return of the former president to social media on the U.S. Presidents Day holiday.” –Reuters
“We’re doing something that’s really, Maria, it’s such a great opportunity for President Trump, for me.” –Former Representative and current CEO of the Trump Media & Technology Group Devin Nunes on Sunday Morning Futures with Maria Bartiromo
The soft launch of Truth Social marks former President Trump’s reemergence on social media, and we here at the Trump Media and Technology Group want to make sure we do it right. Our goal is to give users what they actually want – a platform to connect with others and post death threats with reckless abandon and zero repercussions.
We couldn’t have done it without our beta testers, hand-picked via phishing emails lying about what the website was, who would be running it, and how it was going to be funded. As the CEO of Trump Media & Technology Group, I wanted to take this opportunity to address some of the feedback we received, as well as to highlight a few of Truth Social’s key features.
While some beta testers loved the ability to post their truths with zero oversight, others were concerned about the proportion of posts that said Covid-19 is a government mind control experiment pioneered by Nancy Pelosi. Some beta testers also had reservations about the amount of hate speech on the site. We took this into consideration, and allowed for even more hate speech, which is what we think they wanted.
Many beta testers said the site was slow, laggy. Well, sorry we don’t want any Silicon Valley Tech Oligarch freaks on our payroll. I took a Khan Academy coding class over the holidays, and I happen to think I did a good job building the website for a beginner. And remember when the Obamacare website crashed? Let’s focus on that instead.
Our platform also includes cool features, such as zero community guidelines. In general, people did seem a little uncertain about what they could and couldn’t say on Truth Social. In an effort to clear things up ahead of the soft launch, I just wanted to emphasize that all types of discourse are allowed and encouraged on our app – conspiracy theories, racism, death threats – anything that might get you banned on other sites, we welcome on Truth Social. This is a safe space for the incitement of violence and promotion of hate.
Now, some may view it as hypocritical that I’m championing such an “anything fucking goes” site when I once filed a massive lawsuit against a Twitter user pretending to be my cow. Let me be clear: this was not me attempting to infringe upon free speech, this was me preventing targeted defamation and harassment of the bovine variety against me. You would have done the same. This will not be an issue on Truth Social, as we will simply disappear accounts that choose to harass me. Everyone else is fair game, though.
We received numerous reports of a burgeoning black market facilitating the trafficking of highly illicit goods and services directly on the main feed of Truth Social. I just want to reiterate that, at the end of the day, we’re capitalists and fervent supporters of the free market. This app has created jobs – granted, mainly jobs for hitmen, unlicensed prescription drug peddlers, and taxidermy hobbyists – and I don’t see how that could be anything but a good thing.
On Truth Social, we believe that money is king. While on other apps, ‘Following’ people simply means getting updates from them on your feed and seeing what they post to their public profile – on Truth Social, for the right price, ‘Following’ can mean whatever you want it to mean: following someone’s profile, following them home, whatever. If you pay for it, you can have it.
This also begs the question: what are we planning to do with our user’s data? Again: If you pay for it, you ...

People on the street who ask if he’s a member of The Village People.
Social media bullying from those horrible Honeycomb Kids.
Due to Cialis / Viagra allergies, not able to “stay crispy in milk” anymore, if you know what we mean.
Despite being a fan of Trump, agitated by people who stormed the Capital while wearing costumes very similar to his military uniform.
That Trix rabbit, who is far more popular a cereal mascot, despite clearly being a pervert. I mean, have you seen those commercials?! He’s obviously trying to lure those kids with that damned delicious cereal!!
No one ever takes him seriously when he asks them to walk the plank.
During his yearly physical for the Quaker Oats company, the attending doctor always asks to see his “crunch-berries” before asking him to cough.
The constant calls and accusations from reporters since the discovery of several of his mustache hairs at the Spahn Ranch Charles Manson compound. Like he’s said hundreds of times already, they were casual friends long before all of the kooky cult stuff.
Pirates making fun of him for having both eyes.
Chloe Kardashian’s stalking claims blown way out of proportion by the media.

What a relief! Here I was thinking the satanic synapses finally got to me, that the voices in my head were speaking up and taking hold. But it was actually my water bottle doing that little pressurized air noise that happens for some reason.
And, yes, my overactive imagination probably had something to do with it too. You know me, always getting carried away!
Here I was thinking I’d lost my mind for good, that there’d be no chance of returning to my serene former life. That life would be a distant memory as my once quiet subconscious would be overrun with utter madness. It was a good thing to be wrong about!
It was disturbing how quickly I just accepted it. I felt a weird sense of relief almost immediately. I remember thinking “Well, I made it pretty far before finally slipping into the abyss. Gotta be some kind’ve record. Should have our own Olympics for people like me. I could compete. Probably do well.”
Alas, my water bottle was just making the tiny man screaming noise. I guess it occurs when the seal is not completely airtight or something. It’s hard to say. Or it really is a tiny man screaming. I think he’s screaming something about self flagellating 22 times on the 22nd night of February 2022 at 22:22 military time as foretold in the scriptures.
Nah! Though, it did sound like my sleep paralysis demon’s second wife so I shouldn’t judge myself too harshly for jumping to conclusions.
Well that’s strange because just as I was thinking this whole thing through, I seem to have misplaced my water bottle. Did I imagine it was there the whole time? That’s odd. So I guess that means I’m hearing and seeing things that aren’t really here too. And there’s that sound again. Sounds like a couple discussing an upcoming trip to the pharmacy while an episode of NPR’s Fresh Air plays in the background. Their tea kettle is coming to a boil. Yeah, it’s coming in clear now.
Oh, here’s my water bottle! I set it down over here! I am such a klutz today.
My last bout with this sentient tinnitus came from the same water bottle a few months ago in the middle of the night. The squealing interrupted one of my recurring dreams where I was Jack Nicklaus on the 18th hole at Augusta in the 1986 Masters Tournament. I was lining up for my final putt when the noise started. Storm clouds rolled in and the wind tussled the blonde hairs of my signature bowl cut. Something was very wrong.
Distracted by the sudden weather and not wanting a possible rain delay to kill my momentum, I rushed my final stroke and missed. The crowd groaned in disappointment. As I trotted off the course in defeat, I saw one man tear up his “Jack is back” sign and mutter to his friend, “Jack is wack.” My long-time caddie Angelo Argea could barely look me in the eye. I would not overcome the largest deficit in my professional career and my ears would not stop ringing.
I woke in a frenzy, running around my house destroying everything I thought might be creating the noise. No matter how many holes I created headbutting the walls in search of the noise or plates I smashed over my ears or mattresses that I tossed out the second story window, nothing was working. I was panting, convinced the noise would never stop. Needing a drink after the melee, I unscrewed my water bottle. The noise ceased.
Looking around at the broken glass and furniture all around me, I realized Boy oh boy, do I sure feel like a goofball.
If I had any sense I would’ve thrown the water bottle away with the mattresses. Instead I vowed to never let it happen again because my ego wouldn’t let me admit defeat against the slightly trill noise generated by a stationary Nalgene. Lesson learned.
What I should do now is use a gasoline jug to carry my water in because only gasoline jugs have that little valve that allows air to escape noiselessly! Sure, it might raise some concern that I’m drinking from a thing meant for machines but at least it won’t scream inexplicably to a point where it’s causing me to question my own sanity...

Thank you for meeting me here under this lamppost at 3:30PM, and welcome to my hometown’s walking tour. As most of you know, our town is famous because – for a 22-hour period of time – our nation’s 16th president, Abraham Lincoln, stayed here. Yep, that’s what we’re known for. Nothing else. No matter what a certain HBO documentary might lay out in graphic detail. Anyway, let’s get started!
The first stop on the tour is actually right around the corner from this YMCA. In the parking lot, you will see a sign that says “Lincoln Slept Here” – but don’t worry, he slept in a house! We did, however, demolish the house. We needed the extra parking space so everyone could attend the weekly self-defense classes. It’s what Lincoln would have wanted (it’s also what our town mandated after the disappearances began).
If you look to your left, you’ll see where the town infirmary used to be. During his visit, Lincoln got a couple stitches in his left hand there after a stray dog bit him. Now it’s a sports bar. They’ve got a great patio, but if I were you I’d opt for a seat inside. We haven’t quite kicked the stray dog problem. Although, people in this town know there are far more sinister things in this world than stray dogs.
Anyhoo, up ahead is where the Appellate court house once stood. As you can see, it is now a CVS. But before it was a CVS, it was a Blockbuster. You know who once visited that Blockbuster? Emma Stone! More like La La Land of Lincoln, am I right? And you know who worked in that Blockbuster? The same guy who committed all those gruesome – whoops, sorry about that, accidentally reverted to the old script.
Real quick, this isn’t part of the tour, but I lost my car keys here last week, so can you all please keep your eyes peeled for a Honda CRV fob? It’s brown and has a key chain on it that says “In My Town, Every Car’s a Lincoln.” It’s a play on our old town slogan, “In My Town, Everyone’s a Suspect.”
Now this stop is one of my favorites. In addition to being the location where “you know who” (and I’m not talking about Lincoln), would leave trophies of his victims, the “Lincoln” Memorial Bench marks the spot of the former local watering hole. According to documents, a brothel was run out the back and people were known to have sex on the balcony in plain sight. Today it sits outside of a CVS. We’re very lucky to have two CVS’s.
On your left, you’ll notice a dark and scary alleyway. Follow me! See that brick wall? Based on courtroom sketches, we can confidently say this is where Lincoln was bit by the dog. I hate that I have to say this on all the tours, but please stop tagging it. The bricks are very old and power washing “the true killer still lives” off them every two weeks is causing them to rapidly erode.
Well, here we are: the town square. This is the final stop on our tour, and the culmination of Lincoln’s visit to our town. Here, Abraham Lincoln gave a rousing stump speech ahead of his travels to Gettysburg. As you know, Lincoln is famous for his superior oratory skills. While most of his words from that day were sadly lost to time, one line remains undisputed: “I have chosen my next victim. You will mourn him half as much as you will fear me.” Hey, which one of you pranksters wrote in my notebook? That’s not what Lincoln said. What he really said was: “I want that dog that bit me dealt with.”
And that’s it! Thank you for visiting our lovely town and coming on this tour. As you go out into the world, I hope you think of us as a place forever tied to the history of the great Abraham Lincoln, and not – as we were formerly known – “Bludgeonsburg, the location of the horrific 1988 Summer of Bludgeonings.”

Most babies are not able to care for themselves
Sure, some babies are a bit more autonomous than others, but for the most part, you are going to be the one caring for your baby. Don’t expect to just have a baby and then be able to check in periodically to see how it’s doing, unless you’re incredibly wealthy, in which case, you probably can do that. On the whole, parents should plan on being the ones who care for their baby.
Babies are not immediately able to walk
This one can sometimes frustrate new parents. When a baby is born, they do not have the ability to walk right away. So instead they crawl. As a result of this, babies often have a difficult time keeping up while on hikes or at music festivals. However, as time passes, the baby will naturally gain motor skills and learn to walk, largely, on their own. Meaning you won’t have to teach them something they should already know how to do.
Babies won’t apologize for things
Babies can be a little head-strong and sometimes have difficulty saying sorry for the things they do. Expecting your baby to be the one to extend an olive branch when you two have a tift is a fool’s errand. Whether your baby is waking you up in the middle of the night, throwing up on your favorite shirt, or just generally adding stress to your life, don’t expect them to say sorry, ever.
Babies do not eat regular adult foods right away
It’s a bit of a bummer for a lot of new parents when they realize that their baby does not like the same foods they do. Don’t be shocked if your baby doesn’t want to split a Rueben with you at the pub or have some of the fries that you ordered for the table at your favorite restaurant. Nope, when babies are born they can really only have breast milk, formula, and some weird puree type foods. It’s a pretty limited palate to be honest, so get ready to have to prepare separate meals for your baby. Which is, admittedly, kind of a pain.
Babies do not come toilet-trained
Unfortunately, it’s true. Children are not born with the ability to use a toilet, urinal, or porta-john. This is something you must teach them as they mature. When a baby has to go to the bathroom, they’ll just do it regardless of the surroundings or situation. You might think, okay well, at least they can clean up after themselves when they’re done, right? No, when your baby makes a mess in their pants, you’re responsible for cleaning it up. Seems pretty backwards, I know, but with babies that’s just the deal.
Baby clothes are smaller than adult clothes
This one tends to trip people up. Some people envision a scenario wherein they will be able to share clothes with their baby like they did their college roommate or siblings growing up, but in general it doesn’t usually work out that way. Babies are much smaller than adults and as such, their clothes won’t fit us and our clothes won’t fit them. That’s why I always tell people that having a baby as a means of doubling your wardrobe isn’t a great idea.
Babies do not contribute financially
It might seem a little unfair, but most babies do not feel compelled to go out and find work so as to contribute to the bottomline of a home. They will eat your food, want you to buy them clothes and other basic necessities, and force you to pay for their doctor’s visits, all without bringing anything to the table monetarily. And what’s worse, they won’t even acknowledge their own freeloading. If you’re looking for someone to share expenses with, consider getting married or finding a business partner, but don’t try having a baby because they’ll just mooch off of you for as long as they can.
A baby’s appearance will change over time
Don’t freak out when you have a baby and you think Whoa, are they going to look like that forever? They won’t, I promise. As time passes, a baby’s appearance will change and they will become taller, gain weight, grow hair, and so on. Just like you did!
Your baby will not come out of the womb having seen any of your favorite movies
A personal frustration...

Frank Baum
Juliet awakens and sees Romeo lying on the ground. A house has fallen on him.
JULIET: Oh, Romeo. I don’t think we’re in Verona anymore.
Juliet clicks her heels together three times.
JULIET: There’s no place like Rome. There’s no place like Rome. There’s no place like Rome.
Lady and Lord Capulet enter, along with Friar Lawrence and Nurse.
JULIET: It wasn’t a dream. It was real. You were there, and you, and you, and you! And you’re all to blame for Romeo’s death!
Judy Blume
Juliet, alone in her room, leans against her bed to pray.
JULIET: Are you there, God? It’s Me, Juliet. I just kissed this boy at a party and it turns out my family hates him! I should probably listen to them, but he’s so cute! Please help me decide. I’ve waited so long for my period, and it still hasn’t come. My mother said she was eleven when her period arrived, which makes me worry. If my period comes, I’ll take it as a sign that I should not date Romeo.
Romeo enters, calling for Juliet.
ROMEO: Sweet lady, can I kiss you again?
Juliet’s face lightens up, she approaches her balcony. Then, her face drops as her hands drop to her belly. She bends over in pain. Juliet has gotten her period.
Lewis Carroll
Enter Friar John, who was supposed to deliver a letter to Romeo notifying him of Juliet’s plan, but was prevented from entering Mantua due to the plague.
Friar John yells at the city’s walls.
FRIAR JOHN: I’M LATE! I’M LATE!
Friar John spots a hole nearby. He dives inside to be alone with his regret.
Roald Dahl
In Friar Lawrence’s shack, Juliet asks for a way to avoid marrying Paris, as she is already married to Romeo.
JULIET: You want me to fake my own death? You must be positively dotty!
FRIAR LAWRENCE: Rude, insolent girl. Either follow my orders or GO TO THE CHOKEY!!!
JULIET: I may be small, but I do have telekinetic powers.
Juliet uses her powers to pilfer coins from Friar Lawrence’s collection plate. She escapes with Romeo.
FRIAR LAWRENCE: Rotten, star-crossed maggots.
Maurice Sendak
Juliet refuses to marry Paris, so her parents send her to her room without dinner.
LADY CAPULET: If you do not get married, you will become a wild thing!
Juliet stomps to her room and fastens her favorite wimple around her head: the one with ears sewn onto the top.
That night, a forest grows in Juliet’s room, covering her balcony in vines. She climbs down her balcony and races into the forest where she will meet strange beasts with glowing yellow eyes who roar at her.
JULIET: Be quiet!
As a teenager, Juliet has mastered staring down her enemies. The wild things cower in fear. They declare her Queen of the Wild Things, which is a way better title than any she could earn through marriage.
Laura Ingalls Wilder
After Romeo learns of his exile, he visits her again at her balcony.
ROMEO: Oh Juliet, let’s run away together! We can move out west!
JULIET: But, what will Ma and Pa say? They’ll miss me terribly!
ROMEO: Think of the life we can have together. I’ll hitch a covered wagon, we’ll buy us a little ol’ farm. Your controlling parents will be miles and miles away!
Nurse, who has been eavesdropping as per usual, steps in between the couple.
NURSE: Romeo, you’re a noble. Do you even dress yourself without the help of a servant? Your ability to speak in poetic verse is no prerequisite for surviving on a prairie.
Romeo, deeply offended, sulks as he descends the balcony. A horse gallops towards Romeo, quickening its pace. Romeo, too distracted by his own melancholy, is trampled by the horse.
Dav Pilkey
Below is an excerpt from Pilkey’s new novel: Lord Undergarments and the Definitely Doomed Lover of Verona
The Apothecary, whom Romeo consulted to buy poison, is rearranging items on his shelf. He grabs a bottle and inspects the label.
APOTHECARY: Oh, it seems like I didn’t sell that guy a bottle of poison after all. All I’m missing is my hypnosis powder, which makes people turn into the action hero of their dreams.
MEANWHILE: in the Capulet’s tomb, Romeo has stripped down t...

We want you to know that despite how it may have looked, we’re completely fine, and even quite refreshed. We were never in danger, aside from the slight risk of toxin seepage from your father’s recalled Phillips Respironics Dream Station.
The truth is that we would never choose to offer a teachable moment this particular way – a thrash of nude bodies, cords, distilled water, and so on – and all we can do is reassure you that it is completely normal for the initial exposure to a CPAP machine to make you feel like you might asphyxiate. Yes, that’s exactly right! Like you could literally die.
The point is that not only is everything fine, but we think you’re old enough now to discuss something special that grown-ups have done throughout time – which is to adapt nearby resources into their lovemaking routines, whether these are food items, professional uniforms, or prescription-only equipment the insurance company provides for respiratory therapy. Sometimes, couples who share a diagnosis of obstructive sleep apnea discover that they also share an interest in experimentation with forcing pressurized air through hose delivery systems, thus accidentally revolutionizing their sex lives. We hope that one day you find someone you love this much, and when you do, you can entrust them with your heated tubing. It won’t matter whether you opt for a mask or nasal pillows, only that the pressure is positive and continuous.
We understand that when you first learn that adults regularly blow open more than one of their obstructed passageways, you may feel overwhelmed. That’s normal! It is totally legitimate to have questions about what you may have glimpsed – the humidifier tubs or the elaborate configuration of Velcro headgear straps. Nothing is off limits. So, ask whatever you want. We’re not embarrassed.
In fact, to be honest, it’s a relief finally to tell you the ways our lives have improved. You probably remember that we used to be exhausted all the time, dozing off at your piano recitals and birthday parties, with no energy to move from the couch at night, let alone to have very special “adult hugs.” Now, if we gasp forty times an hour, it is totally unrelated to respiratory failure, and every orifice feels like a breath mint. If we hit each other all night, it’s not to stop the snoring, if you see what we mean. And what’s more, we still have energy in the morning to clean the garage, do some quilting, and complete a Tae Bo video before work.
When you do meet someone special, we hope you’ll bring up your interest in CPAP machines early and without shame. And please note that we will not judge you if you find yourself in single CPAP relationship. In fact, we know that we will need to be there for you more than ever — because you’re really going to have so much down time when you’re better rested than your partner.
While you’ll appreciate our candor one day in the future, the level of awkwardness you feel right now seems to have triggered oxygen desaturation. The color has totally drained out of your face, reminiscent of an apnea-hypopnea index over 30. So, yes, we’ll drop it. And certainly, we will entertain your suggestion to put a lock on our bedroom door.
Meanwhile — If you hear a whooshin’, don’t come a-pushin’.

Five Course Valentine’s Day Prix Fixe
Welcome to Valentine’s Day at Sel de la Coeur. Though this year I have personally suffered a blindingly painful divorce, I hope you enjoy our romantic menu nevertheless.
Please note: There will be NO substitutions permitted.
I know what it’s like to be replaced, and I will not have my menu items disrespected in the same way.
You committed to this meal for better or for worse.
-Chef Annette
Cocktail
The Sparkling Violet
Our Champagne and Creme de Violette creation was made just for you, so it would be goddamn ungrateful to reject it. Did you know I devoted nearly a quarter of my life to learning the art of mixology? Almost as many years as I spent moonlighting as a line chef at Bugaboo Creek in my twenties, in order to support my now ex-husband as he pursued his Master’s in “The Narrative Logic of Postmodernism.” If you prefer a glass of Rosé, know that I would have preferred my husband not to leave me for my daughter’s SAT tutor. We all want things.
Starter
Maine Oysters
A dozen freshly shucked aphrodisiacs that will set your pheromones tingling– an experience I’ve only had in the past five years during my late night viewings of “Call Me by Your Name.” They say inside every oyster is a pearl, but sometimes there’s no pearl, and also no diamond, or any piece of jewelry ever, unless you count a cubic zirconia engagement ring that ominously shattered two days after we eloped to the chilly shores of Kennebunkport. Anyway, if these oysters aren’t to your liking, welcome to existence.
Appetizer
Single Lump-Crab-Cake
One lonely Maryland crab cake: seared to a delicate golden brown, salted with tears from my guttural sobbing. No, you may not order a second because this meal is FIXE. The two of you will just have to figure out how to equitably divide the spoils of my culinary labors. For a small extra fee, our sommelier will provide wine pairings and act as a mediator. Try not to harbor resentment when one of you sweet-talks their way into taking it all despite never having held down so much as a TA position, let alone a job, after 20 years together.
Soup / Salad
Root Vegetable Salad
Artichoke hearts, hearts of palm, and heart-shaped beet carpaccio. You promised to eat this salad when you made the reservation; that’s a public covenant we take very seriously. Do these veggies go well together? They should. But going well together takes effort. It means asking about each other’s days, planning vacations, and keeping your dick in your pants during your daughter’s SAT prep lessons. Relationships, like beet salads, are messy. So accept the flawed but loveable food in front of you, and wipe the beet juice off your face for god’s sake.
or
Soup du Jour
There is no soup. Sometimes people lie, both in marital vows and on chalkboard menus.
Main Course
Fresh Caught Steamed Lobster
Consider the lobster, because it’s the only entrée you’ll be getting. It’s nice to say that without having a pretentious essay collection mansplained to me again by my idiot ex. Rather than a quick, merciful boiling, this crustacean has been simmered for hours. You might be wondering whether the lobster felt pain, or whether it was resigned to slowly expiring in a liquidy hell. Maybe it suffered from debilitating self-abnegation and thought to itself, “this is what I deserve.” Regardless, the lobster has been freed of its mortal coil and I have been freed from hearing about David Foster Wallace every night as I wrote out checks to pay down his student loans. So enjoy your fucking lobster, and toss the empty shell after you’ve eaten all the meat. Or just whenever it loses its novelty — that’s on you for failing to recognize the quality of this lobster, which deserves to be savored from tail to antennae.
Dessert
Bananas Foster-Wallace
A slightly green but trusting banana is paired with a hardened scoop of patronizing hipster ice cream that has grown colder over time. It almost never wants the banana to lie on top of it anymore. The ...