Kevin Nash wants to kick your ass at the Cheesecake Factory

Me: It’s not chocolate bread just because it’s brown. By those rules it could be poop bread.

Hot Lunch: Look, it’s Kevin Nash over there. Walking out toward the parking lot.

Server: Here’s your bread.

Hot Lunch: Yes! Chocolate bread!

Server: Chocolate bread? Cool. I like it. I’ll be back to take your order.

Hot Lunch: See, he said it’s chocolate bread.

Me: He was astonished because he’s never heard anyone call it chocolate bread. Because it’s not chocolate bread.

Hot Lunch: What are those anyway, weeds? (About the ornamental grasses into which he disappeared when he fell off the patio in his chair as we first sat down.)

Me: They could be fescue.

Hot Lunch: They seem like weeds.

Me: One man’s weeds is another man’s fescue. I just wanted to say fescue some more.

Hot Lunch: Apparently. I see you like to rub that in. That you know what that means and I don’t. Kevin Nash is just standing out there. I think he wants to kick my ass.

Me: Except the fescue already did that.

Hot Lunch: It’s cool being by the mall. I love the smell of commerce.

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