The Reuben one reminded me of a story Terry Pratchett told. He said that one jet-lagged evening he accidently asked for Three Mile Island dressing for his salad. The waitress didn’t say a word, just brought him Thousand Island dressing and a bottle of hot sauce.

The soup of the day is usually Hitler miss, but I’m sure you’ll just Goebbels up today’s gestapo soup.

You are part of an ancient thing that doesn’t know what it is, and can’t.

This entitled housewife looks back at her impressionable child and calmly says “She is yelling because that girl deserves it, the service is terrible every time we come here.” And then she looked me straight in the eyes.