I was always uh, kinda one who'd like consider myself kind of a pioneer of the palate, a restauranteur if you will. I've wined, dined, sipped and supped in some of the most demonstrably beamer-epitomable bistros in the Los Angles metropolitan region. Yeah, I've had strange looking patty melts at Norms. I've had dangerous veal cutlets at the Copper Penny – well, what you get is a breaded salsbury steak in a shake-n-bake and topped with a provocative sauce of Velveeta and, uh, half-n-half... smothered with Campbell's tomato soup. See I have kinda of a uh... well I order my veal cutlet.. Christ, it left the plate and it walked down to the end of the counter. I turn and say, 'waitress, see my –' read, boy, she's wearing those rhinestone glasses with the little pearl thing clipped on the sweater – My veal cutlet come down, tried to beat the shit out of my cup of coffee... Coffee just wasn't strong enough to defend itself...
I know what I want, ma'am; I'm just not sure how it fits on your menu. Bacon, crisp. Two eggs, over-medium -- solid white; liquid yolk. White toast -- you butter it out back, right? Good. -- extra butter, and grits with shredded cheddar on top, but not mixed in."
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