Monday, October 13, 2014

This Grill is on Fire

On Saturday night I found myself out on a date. A date that ended up in a cozy booth at my favorite place to dine; The Denver Diner in downtown Denver. A ginger bearded boy and I sat in a corner booth dining on pancakes. A scene right out of a gay Rockwell painting. It was the perfect step on a great night out. We sat and judged the endless supply of parading women, drunk and spent from partying in their tiny skirts and 6" heels.  As I stared dreamily into my table mates deep blue eyes I heard screaming from the kitchen. "Get out!!!! Fire!!! Everyone out!!!!" I looked over to see the entire grill engulfed in flames. Leaving my pancakes, but grabbing my bearded boy, I attempted to beat out the murder of drunk girls, as I would assume they would be too slow in there cheap heels to make it to the door.*

As I escorted my date to the  front door, I did have the head about me to bust into a rendition of one of Alicia Keys' songs. I blurted out,

"it's just a grill and it's on fire!"


There is
no more proud moment in my life.

*The news reported that no whoreish girls were harmed in the fire. My pancakes were; however, a total loss.

The news link is here...


anne marie in philly said...

I am sorry to hear about your pancakes, but how did the rest of the date go?

Pac said...

You saved a Grindr hook-up from a six-alarm grease fire?? Were they pre-sex or post-sex pancakes?

Blobby said...

But I'm guessing your pancakes were also it kind of evens out. I mean, except for singing.

Homer said...

I never guessed you were a flamer!

Anonymous said...

There's always Willams version: