The server has not moved from behind the counter, but has maintained her part as she sings a harmonized duet the Bette Midler song, the Rose, with Sarah, followed by more applause from the other table with whistles and cheering.
"You're really good", she calls out to Sarah.
"As are you. What's your name?"
"Nicole."
"Sarah."
Then Nicole looks in my direction and says, "No cookie for you? Are you the designated driver?"
"I am actually.." Carl and Jesús are having a sword fight with their two coffee spoons, both giggling like two silly little twits. Sarah keeps trying to knock their spoons out of their hands with her own spoon.
"Good plan. These cookies are potent."
"Potent?" say I. "They have a lot of sugar?"
Then, with a big wide shiteating grin, Nicole points at a piece of paper taped in front of the display case below her. "Come have a read", she says, deadpan.
I approach the counter and the sign says, "Every baked product on this side contains cannabis or cannabinoid compounds. You must be over eighteen."
"Are you all over eighteen?"
"That we are", and I return to our table. "Guess what, you guys""
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