A little change of pace for my Dive Bar readers today as the Blues Tales meanders into the realm of Friday Fictioneers, where the goal is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt. What? Only 100 words? I know what you’re thinking, there’s no way Tina’s snarky observations can be completed in 100 words . . . and you’re right. Not only did I go over 100 words, but there is much more to come in this particular episode of dive bar douchebaggery . . .
“Bacon cheeseburger,” I say, setting a steaming plate in front of a woman in her sixties with a horrid burgundy dye job that could only come from a box. She stares at me with a silent scowl as I slide the second plate in front of her husband. “Regular cheeseburger, plain and dry. No side, right?”
“I said just the burger,” he fumes.
Bun, meat, cheese . . . OMFG is this guy seriously freaking out about the garnish? Where does he think he is? A five star restaurant? Does he see linens on the tables? A maître d’ at the door? Does he expect a bowl of rose water and a wet towel at the end of his meal?