This morning Ned and I went to a diner, and he was in a mood.
Really, though, his whole morning had been dumb, with just ludicrous small things going wrong, and then I said, "Let's go to the diner!" and he said okay, and then he couldn't find parking because EVERYONE ON EARTH goes to that goddamn diner and it just goes to show you that stupid places like Applebee's are stupid, because when you come right down to it, nothing's better than a local diner with home fries made from actual potatoes. Which I may or may not have gotten. Along with bacon. And the next time I say I am smuggling a cannon in my abdomen I'd like you to remind me of that.
Anyway, Ned's mood. Which was magnificent. So we're in the unpaved bumpy ludicrous driveway of the diner, and I said, "There's a spot right there next to Yoko Ono, there, getting out of her car."
"That woman doesn't look anything like Yoko Ono," Ned snapped, from his mood place.
"Well, she's Asian," I said, from my horrid place. She really was about 200 times better-looking than Yoko Ono, but of course that narrows it down.
"Oh, SON OF A BITCH," Ned groused, as he searched his pockets. Had he forgotten his penis?
"I meant to bring quarters. Right before I left I thought 'I'll bring quarters, and we'll get the paper, and read the paper while we eat, and it'll be great' and I forgot the goddamn quarters."
"I have a quarter," I offered.
"THE PAPER IS SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS, JUNE," snapped Ned, from his mood place, where apparently he was setting up a summer home.
Ned realized he had a dollar and got change after we walked in and ordered, which by the way should have cheered him up tremendously, because usually you have to stand in line outside, and once again I'd like to mention that Applebee's sucks. And so does TGIFridays.
But not Red Robin. Red Robin is effing delicious.
The coffee there is not the greatest, so I poured cream in and noticed Ned did, too. "Why'd you put cream in your coffee?" I asked.
"Because you did."
I waited a second, and then started doing jazz hands. With sparkle fingers. "I'm not doing that just because you are," said Merry Sunshine, over there.
Ned went out to get his paper. When he came back in, Ned literally had a storm cloud over him, like he was Ziggy.
Didn't Ziggy always have a cloud over him? I just Googled it and I swear I only got this.
Dude. What the hell is wrong with Nancy? I mean in general. And also here. I always thought Aunt Fritzi was hot. Why did she have no man? Do you think Aunt Fritzi swung the other way? Oh, I was born in the wrong era. I so woulda tapped that.
But my 1940s vixen lesbian cartoon fantasies are not why I called you all over here today. I was talking about the diner. The diner of crab. We might as well have gone to Red Lobster, so crabby was our experience. Speaking of places I never ever want to go.
So Ned gets back from getting his paper, empty-handed and pointedly scowly. "By the time I got there, the last paper was gone. If I'd JUST REMEMBERED to bring quarters in the first place, I could have gotten it right away, and now there's no paper."
Ned scowled manfully, hating the room.
"Sunny side up?" asked the waitress, with our plates.
"Right here," said Ned.
"That's ironic," I said, and Ned laughed, in his all-consuming Ned-laugh way.
And just like that, his mood was over.