There was this rat, an Urban one scrambling around, round the city of New York. It settled down on a scrap piece of cheese: on a corner half-inside a crevice on the street kerb.
After enjoying his delicious meal, he stood and looked at a middle-aged man, sitting cross-legged outside the restaurant, alone on his table with a bottle of wine. What was really on rat’s mind, was having a sip of the red wine.
The thing with modern restaurants in New York city, these last couple of years, as I’ve observed, is that we lost a glorious custom of properly equipping customers with a varied range of choices, as the French do.
The Application of right culinary techniques and proper service culture is widely lost in most restaurants, as it seems.
So off rat goes, off to another fortuitous site, where he can find something as interesting as what he’d just had, or even better. A rat needs a good place to chill!
The man who set his hat down and had dinner on a bottle of wine stood up and began to walk away from the restaurant. He took the first left turn, before the boulevard and then settled inside a yellow cab, off to see his girl.
Thank Jesus for such glorious junctions, where two or more creatures or species can meet, on an inter-natural plane: I mean, for the sakes who would have told the man the rat was interested in his red wine? (I laugh,)
And who would have told little Mr. rat, that they two would meet at yet another inter-natural junction; the grand and pretty fleshly planes of romp, and smooches and sex in this city: cuz by 11:00PM later in the night, both man and rat were on their respective mate; making Love: (what reckons yuo?).