Alone together on a Saturday or Sunday night, during a quiet moment by the pool, we may have shared a pancake dinner together, or practiced ordering another pancake dinner that would actually never come -- from Denny's, if Denny's existed back then, or from our favorite seedy restaurant in Reseda or
Van Nuys.
We may have waited for our perfect pancake dinner for hours, may have watched capitalism's
slow, factory corruption in slow motion, and may have made promises of
love and loyalty to each other so severe that here we are again, in the next life, enjoying pancake dinner together again. 🥞
Pancake dinner, big brother. Don't worry -- little brother is on the way to save the day. Tonight, tomorrow, and always.
(if you like this writing style, you're going to
love the book of
bisexual men's
short stories, The Stories of John Cheever, when that part of your 39th birthday present arrives late ^_^)
Pancake dinner part 3. CHONCHLATE CHIP
PANCAKES, two eggs, poached, on wheat bread (toast), chonchlate
milkshake, and a soda,
Pepsi or Coke, should be no more than z16s.
