A few days ago I had a vivid experience of diarrhea.

Yesterday morning I sat in a nearly empty Lloyd Coffee Eatery, listening to the two employees talking in the kitchen area.

My mind did the rest …

***

It was 1986.  I was a waiter at Fiddler’s, a fancy dining room in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada.  Lunchtime was dead – only one couple eating.

They were enjoying their main course.  I had topped up their drinks.  There was nothing to do but leave them alone with their romantic words.

I retreated behind the divider, and Colette and I started talking about … not much.  Gossip and assorted silly stuff.

Somehow our conversation turned to the topic of shit.  One of us came up with the delightfully messy term “anal pudding”.  We giggled.  How creative we were!

…

Time passed … and I peeked around the corner to see that the couple’s plates were empty.  I walked out and gracefully removed the dirty dishes.  And then returning …

Bruce:  “Would you like some dessert?  We have a wide variety.”

Woman (smiling):  “Oh, we’ve heard what you have for dessert.  And we don’t want any.”

(Please visualize a red-faced young man slinking away to the back of the restaurant)

***

1986 … 2026

Timeless