"boston market, huh?" as the pet human grimaced and hung up the phone. we don't actually dine there ourselves, we were called upon to do a good deed.
"come on sammy, we are on a mission"
i love adventures, i get to oversee the operation, i poke my nose out, and if the sniff isn't right, i can hide, and become invisible. if the action get's heavy, of course i can take on whatever evils the pet human can't handle by itself.
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"i'll have the usual" the guy in front of us said.
behind the counter, a perplexed look from the cashier. "excuse me?"
again, talismanic, "the usual"
i stuck my nose out of the pet human's hood. i saw the back of a slick hundred dollar white tee shirt, sweatpants, a muscular fellow, with shades, even from behind him, i could sense he was quite full of himself
 |
| mr "i'll have the usual" |
this was gonna be good.
mr cool: "you know, the usual"
"i can't really...... i don't .... what......?" the poor lass had no idea what this clown wanted
"i'll have my usual order, you know"
i was thinking, no she doesn't. she obviously doesn't know.
he coaxed her a bit: "i came in here and you know, got the same order three weeks in a row.."
i crawled outright, at this point, and from my perch upon my pet human's shoulder, i gave the cashier, mr. cool, and other patrons "the look" and that mind control thing i do, which told him something like:
"look fool. anyone who is trying to be cool in a boston market is a moron. and even if it were cool, you aren't hip, who walks into a dive like this and asks for the usual? get on with your business"
after much blushing, embarrassment and shuffling of feet, he finally placed his order.
and that is why i don't take my pet to boston market
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