O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
They walked into the lobby and waited for a table to be prepared.
Actually, they were all prepared, and all empty. Whomever decided
to build an exotic, multicultural restaurant in the middle of the
California desert clearly had some idiosyncratic ideas about supply
and demand.
Looking around, Harvey noticed more interesting ethnic
amalgams, many of them ironic and politically slanted. Hard to miss
was the blonde fashion mannequin, outfitted in full Native American
regalia but for the pantyhose and pumps protruding from beneath
the fringed leather skirt, and a garish, curly blonde wig. An American
flag on the wall behind her was decorated with huge capital letters:
BUY AMERICAN.
No less interesting were the three life-sized skeletons with
sombreros on, cradling a guitar, a trumpet, and an AK-47 assault
rifle, respectively, standing in front of a banner that read: LA
REVOLUCÍON ES MUERTA. VIVA LA REVOLUCÍON.
The
Revolution is Dead. Long Live the Revolution.
“Enchanting,” said Harvey.
“Really whets your appetite, huh?” said Milo, then suddenly
raising his voice, “Hey table lady! How’s about some service?” He
turned to Harvey and whispered, “Fuck, those guys must have been
waiting a long time. An’ they had
guns
an’ shit.”
Harvey laughed, “Yes. Perhaps we should employ them
ourselves.”
“That won’t be necessary darlin’” said a sweet voice behind them.
It came from a short, very pretty young woman of Native American
heritage, wearing more cultural adornments than one might see in a
full day’s worth of public television.
“Would you gentlemen prefer smoking or non-smoking?” she
said.
“I always prefer smoking,” said Milo with a growl, “and baby, it’s
time somebody called 9-1-1. You’re on fire,
chica
. Why don’t you
come sit down at our table? Mmm-hmm!”
“Thanks for the invitation,” she said brightly. “However, I find
you totally unattractive.”
Milo’s eyes popped. If this was rejection, he’d never seen it like
this before. Usually, it came in the form of a simple ‘go fuck yourself,’
or a slap in the face, or the occasional knee in the nuts. For some
unknown reason, blunt honesty proved wildly more effective at
defusing his libido than violence had ever been. He found that any
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