Say, what?

My friend took me out to dinner last night.  He is a brewer at the restaurant, and so he was a familiar face to some of the staff.  I suppose this is the reason that he recoiled in shame for a brief moment after I turned my head sideways, cupped my hand over my mouth like a megaphone, and ripped a resonating belch toward the patrons sitting behind me in their own booth.  Like a ventriloquist, I “threw my voice,” and it was audible throughout the facility, as my legendary belches usually are.  The servers passing by stopped midstep, one saying emphatically to the other, “Dude, was that YOU??”

Note: this incident did NOT occur at Shoney’s or Subway.

About Ursula E Minor

*In lieu of verbositously bombarding the email inboxes of those whose time I take care to not waste, I sought an unobtrusive, alternative outlet for my compulsion to do exactly that. This is it. Ursula E Minor at rocketmail dot com is the address I use for private written interactivity.
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