A marriage made in haste is a pizza parlor with a Help Wanted sign in a colored plastic window beside the entrance, a horde of the community’s hoi polloi, standing, pressed together on a Friday night, PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED the only invitation.
At last, a table is ready. It seats only one, in the corner, dimly lit, beside a door wailing: EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY. One takes the chair in hungry desperation. What’s that? The waitress quits, the cook walks out, and the manager takes your order.
A chilling air blows endlessly across one shoulder.
Eons go by before the order arrives, blistering hot on an aluminum platter. Whetted appetite ravenously devours a slice, and a cockroach sedate, sliced in eights.
Author: K. Kelley, 1990