Fictionlet
“They were provoking me,” snarled Brigid, who stared out the car window with her arms crossed.
“Well, yes,” said Greg. “Obviously, I sympathise, and anybody who deliberately plays ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ is clearly asking for it. But surely you could have chosen a less extreme reaction? Like maybe just switching the power button to ‘off.'”
“Lacks finality,” said Brigid.
“Maybe so, but you must realize that it will be months — if ever — before they let you back in that restaurant.”
“I’m not going back to any friggin’ restaurant that willingly plays ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ at me!” she snapped.
Greg nodded, understandingly. He’d long felt the same way, himself.
-The Gneech
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