he pointed to the burger and looked up at the waitress. “i didn’t ask for mayo,” he said kindly, almost apologetically.
for a moment, he thought her mind went blank as she stared absently into his skull. then she picked up the bun and slid it over the edge of the table, squeezing the mayo onto the clean surface. she threw back the bun on the patty and walked off.
this movie scene comes to mind now and again. when you speak like that, my feelings feel like paste, dangling thick and lardy in the stupid space between us, while you move on.