Night Town: The Acidhead Avengers, Part Whatever
Dalene banged the door to Danny's Diner behind her and made accidental eye contact with the security guard. Something trailed from the bench-riding, passed-out homeless guy greeter's mouth.
"Those are some glittery neon green shoes," said Gabe.
"Thank you Captain Obvious," volunteered Dalene
"Shh, don't spoil my cover."
The two were seated and spent some time perusing the menu. Both eventually decided on milkshakes after what seemed like a time lapse of two hours. Things were moving especially slowly tonight.
Dalene and Gabe chitchatted. About ten minutes later, the man sitting by himself at the table adjacent to the two got up and addressed them.
"Hey, did you just see Morgan Spurlock walk out of here?"
"Who?"
"Morgan Spurlock. The guy who did Super Size Me, and that other documentary."
"I don't even know who the hell you're talking about," counteracted Gabe.
"I...I've gotta go catch him!!" The man ran out the door, possibly having dined and dashed.
Dalene raised and eyebrow and shrugged. "That's a fairly obscure reference for a schizo."
"I'm pretty sure most schizophrenics have full intelligence capacity."
Their milkshakes arrived.
"What is this, the 1950s?" Dalene pointed out their choices in nourishment and they both laughed.
Conversation flowed in and out, and in another fifteen or twenty minutes, Dalene noticed the couple seated diagonally from them forming a conspiratorial triad with the server. Dalene leaned towards Gabe.
"What the bloody hell is going on over there?" The trio were watching something at the gas station directly across from Danny's, as if from a front-row seat. Dalene glanced over and became concerned that the three were witnessing a holdup. She walked over and asked.
"Hey, what are you guys looking at?"
"That man sitting over at that table there who walked out. He's zigzag walking in and out of traffic. Somebody needs to call the cops." The woman's head was the size of a pin. The haze in their voices was dreamy and far away, as if they wouldn't intercede for another person if their own lives depended on it.
"That's it? There's no place being robbed? We wanna know if we have to superhero cut a bitch." Dalene always tried to make them laugh.
The man of the couple chuckled. "Nah...we hope somebody calls the cops, though."
Dalene and Gabe resumed their seats and continued on their conversation, which lasted for over another hour and a half. During this time Dalene, who had the seat viewing the area around which the former restaurant patron had been swerving, maintained her eye on the street, to no reward of eventfulness. The other couple remained in the restaurant, continuing to chat. Finally Dalene and Gabe stood up to pay their bill.
As they walked towards the parking lot, with a breath, Gabe offered: "I'm pretty sure ALL of those fuckers were tripping balls."
"Just them?"
Gabe laughed.
"Another night of keeping the streets safe."
"Those are some glittery neon green shoes," said Gabe.
"Thank you Captain Obvious," volunteered Dalene
"Shh, don't spoil my cover."
The two were seated and spent some time perusing the menu. Both eventually decided on milkshakes after what seemed like a time lapse of two hours. Things were moving especially slowly tonight.
Dalene and Gabe chitchatted. About ten minutes later, the man sitting by himself at the table adjacent to the two got up and addressed them.
"Hey, did you just see Morgan Spurlock walk out of here?"
"Who?"
"Morgan Spurlock. The guy who did Super Size Me, and that other documentary."
"I don't even know who the hell you're talking about," counteracted Gabe.
"I...I've gotta go catch him!!" The man ran out the door, possibly having dined and dashed.
Dalene raised and eyebrow and shrugged. "That's a fairly obscure reference for a schizo."
"I'm pretty sure most schizophrenics have full intelligence capacity."
Their milkshakes arrived.
"What is this, the 1950s?" Dalene pointed out their choices in nourishment and they both laughed.
Conversation flowed in and out, and in another fifteen or twenty minutes, Dalene noticed the couple seated diagonally from them forming a conspiratorial triad with the server. Dalene leaned towards Gabe.
"What the bloody hell is going on over there?" The trio were watching something at the gas station directly across from Danny's, as if from a front-row seat. Dalene glanced over and became concerned that the three were witnessing a holdup. She walked over and asked.
"Hey, what are you guys looking at?"
"That man sitting over at that table there who walked out. He's zigzag walking in and out of traffic. Somebody needs to call the cops." The woman's head was the size of a pin. The haze in their voices was dreamy and far away, as if they wouldn't intercede for another person if their own lives depended on it.
"That's it? There's no place being robbed? We wanna know if we have to superhero cut a bitch." Dalene always tried to make them laugh.
The man of the couple chuckled. "Nah...we hope somebody calls the cops, though."
Dalene and Gabe resumed their seats and continued on their conversation, which lasted for over another hour and a half. During this time Dalene, who had the seat viewing the area around which the former restaurant patron had been swerving, maintained her eye on the street, to no reward of eventfulness. The other couple remained in the restaurant, continuing to chat. Finally Dalene and Gabe stood up to pay their bill.
As they walked towards the parking lot, with a breath, Gabe offered: "I'm pretty sure ALL of those fuckers were tripping balls."
"Just them?"
Gabe laughed.
"Another night of keeping the streets safe."
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