They Make World Class Falafel

“Hey, Phil!”

“Dave.”

What’s so funny? You’ve been out here in the street cracking up for minutes. Someone’ll call the men in white with nets.”

“It’s either laugh or cry. I prefer laughing.”

“What do you have to cry about? You’re single, wealthy and beautiful women hang on you.”

“I’m lamenting where I bought my house.”

“I thought you loved it here? You’re always talking up the walking aspect because downtown is right across the River.”

“See that place across there? The one with the yellow neon light? That’s The Falafel Heaven and they serve the best falafel I've ever eaten.”

“I know, Marge and I eat there a lot. It is good. So what’s to cry...laugh about?”

“Where’s the nearest way across?”

“You’re asking me? You’ve lived here longer than I have. Use the bridge.”

“Which one?”

“That way is a quarter mile and that way it’s a few yards farther. Pick one.”

“I already did, I’m using the closer one.”

“So, why this?”

“Because I want a falafel NOW and it’ll take me 12 minutes to get there.”

“You are a true nut case Phil. Drive your Tesla. I know you think it’s a waste of energy, but if you want it that bad...drive. Or you could just suck it up and walk.”

“Thanks Dave, but if I can’t find a place to park it’s your fault.”

“You really are twisted. Just walk”

“Okay, let’s go buddy, I’ll buy.”

“I’ll call Marge and tell her so she Doesn’t worry.”

“Maybe I should settle down again. I think I’d like someone to worry about me.”

“It’s a wonderful feeling.”

“She has to like falafel though. And my Tesla. And not drive a gas guzzler.”

“You haven’t even met her and you’re posing conditions. You are a nut!”