GOOD TIMES

"I love rice."

I'm walking through the kitchen at the steak house where I work. Three people are talking. A woman in her thirties, she has kids, a husband, and a nice butt.

She said, "I love rice."

I keep walking.

I'm walking to the back door. I need to smoke. I need to hide.

Get outside.

There is a blizzard.

The steak house is in the mall parking lot.

Four wheel drive trucks push snow.

There are a lot of crunching noises.

It is cold.