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Parade Rides - cellophane
the story of an invisible girl
renniekins
renniekins
Parade Rides
M and I had "virtual friday" dinner this evening, and our waitress was amusing. She was very young. And earnest. "Our waitress is twelve," commented M.

"Well, she served us wine, so she must be over eighteen. Maybe just a day over."

But she wasn't bad at her job. After she brought us the check, she made some small-talk. "Have a great holiday weekend. Are you doing anything special?"

"No, just seeing some friends. We'll probably go to the parade tomorrow."

"There's a parade? Where?"

"It's in downtown Northville, just a few miles from here. It's really cute, very 'small town America'."

"Oh that sounds so fun, are there rides and stuff?"

"No, just... well, boyscounts and firefighters marching and such."

She reiterated that sounded fun, and that she would have to check it out. When she walked away I blinked at M. "Why would there be rides and stuff at a parade??"

He laughed. "She's young... what does she know?"
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