THE KITSCHEN >blasphemy, incest, kitsch<

(An exercise. Writing in voices that are very different from my own. Scenes in a restaurant.)

ANT.

Fucking onion rings. They smell like a bergie’s armpit  but I can never get away from them. They’re on every fucking plate and a few of them always end up under the tables and under the chairs. We don’t have the sort of tables and chairs you can move around, like in a coffee shop or something. They’re fucking bolted to the floor and somebody has to get down and crawl under there to clean up the mess or the whole place smells like ass and the customers will run away. At least that’s what Preston says, but it’s not that easy to take someone seriously when they have a name like Preston. I personally don’t think the customers give a shit about a few rotting onion rings under the tables. I mean jesus, if they gave a shit, they wouldn’t be eating at The Kitschen in the first place. The only people who eat here are the people who drink here and the only people who drink here are the people who drink until a few onion rings underfoot are about as important as the doctor’s opinion. In other words, not important at all. These people don’t even go to the doctor. I don’t go to the doctor, but I don’t need to. I’m not a fucking idiot. I eat my carrots and I walk to work and don’t fuck around with drinks and smokes every night. On the weekend, maybe, but not every night. I would say I’m a pretty balanced, responsible sort of person. A bit hot-headed, maybe, as Preston likes to put it, but I’m not a fucking idiot. Not like Shivvie. Jesus christ, that guy’s a fucking idiot. Ella says it’s because he eats too much curry and it’s burnt his brains out, but she’s just a racist bitch. Shivvie is just one of those genuine idiots. He never does anything like a normal person. He breaks more plates and more glasses than anyone else. He’s a liability. Preston usually sends him to dig the crap out from under the tables, as punishment, but I honestly don’t think Shivvie minds. He probably eats the fucking onion rings, right off the floor. There was this one time…

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2 thoughts on “THE KITSCHEN >blasphemy, incest, kitsch<

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