Banana cream, pineapple cream, chocolate cream—an’ apple.
Make it apple. Wait—Kind is that big thick one?
Mae lifts it out and sniffs it. Banana cream.
Cut off a hunk; make it a big hunk.
Man at the slot machine says, Two all around.
Two it is. Seen any new etchin’s lately, Bill?
Well, here’s one.
Now, you be careful front of a lady.
Oh, this ain’t bad. Little kid comes in late ta school. Teacher says, “Why ya late?” Kid says, “Had a take a heifer down—get ’er bred.” Teacher says, “Couldn’t your ol’ man do it?” Kid says, “Sure he could, but not as good as the bull.”
Mae squeaks with laughter, harsh screeching laughter. Al, slicing onions carefully on a board, looks up and smiles, and then looks down again. Truck drivers, that’s the stuff. Gonna leave a quarter each for Mae. Fifteen cents for pie an’ coffee an’ a dime for Mae. An’ they ain’t tryin’ to make her, neither.