Finding my favorite seat near the counter at the ‘Three’s Company Diner’, I ordered the ‘usual’ , but a glance at the date on the paper told me that something unusual was up. March 3rd, 2013. Yes, that would explain the new sign outside. I hadn’t paid much attention to it: ‘3 Egg’s for the price of 2. Today only!” (Yes, they love apostrophe’s, these folks), and also explain the full house inside.
The headline said ‘PTA to TAP PAT as science head, for her work with ATP.”
I guess that’s what set me off. NOT a TON of three-letter combos can be playfully diddled with, but I vowed to find ’em all before the coffee cooled, so help me, DOG.
In fact, there are six (6) possible ways, for three letters to lie on the bed in a menange-a-trois, and PAT, who isn’t even French, just got lucky with her 4-some.
Sooo.., I had work to do. Franny, not the tallest waitress in the nekkid city, asked me if I wanted soup by any chance. Behind her, reaching to the ceiling, were shelves with un-marked containers, warm and exuding an enticing aroma every one.
“I think I’ll OPT for the POT on the TOP.” I told her.
“That’s a ladder!” she kinda complained, and I recanted, having made my little point. Plus who knows what ladder-soup tastes like, or if it even gets you high?
The girl sitting next to me, whom I’ve known since high-school gave me a ‘Yer jus’ bein’ silly.’ look, and so I just ‘had’ to add:
“And AMY here MAY want a YAM”.
Frannie hadn’t caught on. Lots of folks don’t see the letters when they just ‘talk’. Ok by me.
Speaking of Amy, we both suffered, in 7th grade art class, under the too-close-for-comfort tutelage of the swishy Mr Deveraux. I did everything in the book to get kicked out, mangling my sculpture project until the vaguely-feline ‘thing’ prompted only one question: ‘What is it?!’
Looking back, it was a CAT in the ACT of choking on a tic-TAC, but I didn’t know it then. No, at the time I was merely a subliminal word-contortionist, I guess. Might explain why, when we moved on to charcoal, I seriously considered handing in for my project ‘ART: a RAT, hiding in a TAR pit. woulda been easy to draw, that’s fer sure.
Meanwhile, speaking of gays, it was looking like the END for DEN and NED. ‘Den’ had been ‘Denise’ when I knew them, but all things change. Except their bickering; Ned insisted on their exchanging seats…
“IT’S not impotant where you SIT.”, Den protested loudly. “Yes, ‘TIS” Ned countered. “Thirteen’s an unlucky number, for the raffle.”
I hadn’t been aware that there even was a raffle, but yes, it twas a part of the 3/3 celebration, I learned later, when Franny brought out the prize, to none other than… Ned, in Seat 13(!).
“Congratulations, you WON.” she announced, “You NOW OWN a rabbit!” she gushed, handing him the stuffed animal. I SAW ‘AW’S from every patron who WAS within eye-shot. Ned petted the toy lovingly, Den gave them both a hug, and all was well. Until the rear legs fell off! Styrofoam packing gushed onto the counter and the floor, and Franny came running. retrieved the ‘patient’, and re-assured the watching crowd: “No worry. WES can SEW it back on.” ‘EW’s were heard from the squeamish among us, who had already personified the toy to the point of ‘feeling his pain’. Ned, though, was brave, asking only that Wes not MAR the bunny’s ARM when they RAM the needle in.
“I promise to hold my new PAL in my LAP next week when I tour the ALP.” Ned added.
Den, combat-ready as usual dug in: “It’s ‘Alps’ you peasant!”
But Ned was ready. “One alp was all we can afford, Den. You think they just gave me all that hiking gear for free?”
The more squeamish of us eaves-droppers having decided that this was a bit TMI in our snow-MITs, I turned to Franny:
“Sign outside says EAT!, I ATE, So where’s the TEA?”
“You never drink tea, Solberg, she said. “You fall on your head?”
“Nope, I just needed it for the last triplet. Happy three’s-day, sweetie.” I told her, paid the bill, and left, thinking ‘Did I miss anything?’