My mother and I were enjoying dinner at a swank restaurant. Having not seen each other for quite a while, our conversation ranged widely, including her recounting an oft-told tale from my childhood that involved a dog. At the appropriate moment in the story, Mom, amid white linen tablecloths, crystal water goblets, and quietly drifting wait staff, lit off a very realistic woof, woof! Seconds later, our waiter, in a starched white shirt and black tie, drifted over with pen poised to pad. “Did madam bark?” he said expectantly.
—Kevin Cole
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1 Comment
At least, the waiter didn’t bring a leash and offer to take Mom for a walk.