So, what is this lunch spot you're taking me to? Is it french?
Do you think the chef will send an amuse-bouche to the table?
No, but this morning I shaved a smiley face into my bush, and it's very amusing.
You know what? It's just so fun to get dressed up and have someone wait on us for a change.
I even bought new panty hose from dooahnay rayahdey.
You mean Duane Reade?
Oh, is that how you pronounce it?
Well, we're here. Better get in line.
Oh, there's a line. Popular place. What's the name?
"Soup kitchen." That's a cute name. Very Williamsburg.
Like, "let's take our upscale urban bistro and make it seem like it's just a soup kitchen open to everyone,
but it's not really a soup kitchen."
Oh, that's nice. They let them use the bathroom. And sit at a table.
Oh, my god! This is really a soup kitchen.
This is your idea of treating me to lunch? We're not homeless.
No, but we are soup-less. And it's not just homeless people who eat here.
Okay, maybe they're the target audience.
Look, there's a lot of other people who can't afford to go out to eat.
You're right. Why are there so many hipsters here?
Because this place isn't just for people who don't have jobs, it's for people who don't want them.
Well, it does smell good.
Excuse me. We'd like to take a look at your lunch menu.
Menu changes every day. Also, there is no menu. There's, like, four things.
Oh, okay. So what do you recommend?
Oh, what do I recommend? Don't share needles, and and use condoms.
But you didn't hear that last one from me.
Are nuns even allowed to be sarcastic?
If they are, I have some serious thinking to do about my future.