WEBSITE: http://ashtrayrabbi...
LOCATION: Los Angeles
RECORDS: 18
LATEST RECORD: 8 months ago
JOINED: December 09, 2009
LOCATION: Los Angeles
RECORDS: 18
LATEST RECORD: 8 months ago
JOINED: December 09, 2009
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I used to work at a retirement home, serving food to the residents; I found a lot of inspiration while working there. I was thinking to make a short with this... I don't think that it'd be all too difficult. Also possibly thinking of extending Helen's story. Not even five feet out the kitchen door, the first thing my eyes meet is her lip-less mouth, forming the words spaghetti and meatballs. And she likes it hot. I can't help but snicker at her sallowed and gaunt, horse-shaped face as she incessantly blinks at me with those empty spheres. Her dentures, protruding inches from her mouth, motion in a manner not unlike that of a cow chewing cud. Despite all this, she still has someone that loves her. He loves her so much that him and his faithful Viagra bottle kept her occupied for hours, forcing an aid to tend to her room to check if she was all right, only to find the lovebirds boning away. With her skeletal figure, the phrase "boning away" aptly captures the action. Her table mate, Marge, is completely lucid; although her eye rolls and smirks suggest that Helen's fried brain mush entertains her, I constantly find myself worrying that Helen's brain will soon rub off on her. While Helen appeases her false need to tell me her static order of hot spaghetti and meatballs, I tend to another table before reaching hers. I try to keep my attention focused on the table as she continues to call me over to her table, her bony fingers ready to break apart as the skin hangs off them like melted wax. I finally reach her table; I start to scribble her order down when she lightly rests her claw on my forearm to catch my attention. "Spaghetti and meatballs, waitress." "Right, Helen. Spaghetti and meatballs," I sigh. |
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