By Prospero Dae
A posh restaurant.
Paul tries to convey something important to Gary. He leans in.
“I don’t like fancy schmancy sandwiches. Give me bacon, lettuce, and tomato—and I’m happy.”
A petulant waiter with spiky hair appears out of nowhere.
“What do you want?”
“I’ll have an LGBT sandwich. What about you, Gary?”
Gary furrows his brow. “I’ll have a BLT also.”
Later the waiter reappears, now from a cloud. “That’s an LGBT for the gentleman and a BLT for you.”
“You can kiss your tip adios, smart ass,” Paul remarks.
Waiter: “Freudian slips don’t pay the rent, but they’re pure gold.”
A BLT could be aTLB or or an LBT… you just never know these days. It depends what goes on the bottom, the middle or the top. Anyway, I think an LGBT is too many fancy schmancy ingredients for one sandwich and if the waiter with spiky hair is snarky and wearing slippers, I would not leave a tip either.
I don’t know if I’m Abbreviation or Acronym (this is a modern version of Arthur or Martha) and I suspect that the spiky-haired waiter might be faced with the same conundrum.
Sometimes Freudian slips are worth their weight in self-satisfaction. Great job, Prospero.
Within the sacred union of bacon, lettuce and tomato I suppose there’s room for guacamole.
Sorry, the whole point of the story was lost on me.