Lesson Five--Part Two

Lesson Five—Part Two

Different versions of the same scenario, a restaurant fire.

Witness One

Who's going to pay for cleaning my Ann Taylor suit?  Oh, here comes a public servant.  Maybe she'll take care of it.

“Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Margaret Winslow.”

"And where do you live?”

"What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s just for the record.”  .

“Don’t try to bamboozle me, young woman.  Here’s my driver’s license.  It’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Thank you, ma’am.  Now, could you tell me what happened?”

“I was just eating when this great plume of smoke came from the kitchen.  I have asthma and I just couldn’t eat at all.  I coughed and coughed.  My inhaler helped a little, but I’m going to need extra breathing treatments after this.  I don’t think I should have to pay for a meal I couldn’t eat because of gross negligence.  Do you?”

“No, ma’am.  I’ll speak with the owner.”

Well, you should.

Witness Two

Geez, here come the cops.  As if my day wasn't already bad enough.

“You’re the cook here?”

“Yeah.  I also own the joint.”

“Okay.  What’s your name?”

“Joe Taylor.”

“And your address?”

“I live right upstairs.  Handy, you know?  And cuts down on getting knocked over.”

“You haven’t ever been robbed?”

“Only by customers stiffing me.”

“Okay.  What happened?”

“Yeah.  Well, it was no big deal.  The dish washer dropped a towel on the grill.  It started smoldering and smoked like nobody’s business.  He’ll be looking for another job tomorrow.  You can bet money on that.  I opened the door, threw out the bum, the towel and a couple of burgers he ruined.”

“Any damage?”

“Just the food and towel.”

“Thanks for your cooperation.”

“No big.”  Glad that's over with.

Witness Three

Man, I'm going to get rousted again.

“Sir?  Could you tell us what happened here?”

“I don’ know.  I’s jus’ sittin’ here and this door got flung open and stuff got chucked out the door and I thought it’d be okay to eat it.  They didn’t want it, did they?”

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Bob White.  Dad thought it was funny as hell.  Didn’t even name me Robert.  Just Bob."

"Like the bird?"

"Yeah.  Like the damn bird.  Satisfied?  Had your laugh?" More funny people.  Doncha just love 'em.

“Sorry, Mr. White.  Where do you live?”

“Nowhere, everywhere.  Go to the Jesus House when it’s real cold.  Eat out of garbage cans.  Sleep in alleys.”

“No permanent address.”

“Right.  Clever aren’t you.”

“Sorry, Mr. White.  Did you see anything else?”

“No, just stuff flying out the door.  Oh, and some guy came out on his face, but he was gone before the burgers came out.  They’s good, by the way.  Wishst I could get some that wasn’t burnt.”