ELBOW ROOM
Poached eggs and insults; Beethoven and bacon frying. The head waiters a bald ear ring guy speaking camp while scribbling sausage patties well done and eggs over easy. Whatll it be Honey, he nasals through twisted nostrils to the blushing Senior beside his laughing wife. Ohh… you look good Sweety, he coos to another Mr. Straight Arrow, perhaps into soft ware, wiggling beside his smiling sales-lady fiance. Outside the window, a nuclear test hole precludes another moss green glass tower, units guaranteed to force-march Yale Towns relentless yuppie push into the wincing Pacific. Soon therell be no elbow room for the Elbow Room. Soon the smartass breakfast will join the flop houses and porno shops buried down below, poetic history entombed beneath developer concrete and unflinching wills.Vancouver Wed. 07/17/03