"We made pornaments."
"Do you have a drinking problem?"
"Obama's Blackberry." "Why do you always have to bring up his color?"
Some (not all) of this was uttered by me, Maximy and Bo at the Silver Fork on Rainier Ave. We're wellllllll-fed now with Southern comfort food, served heroically by the woman who was the sole person on duty when we arrived. Not sole cook: the sole person, darting and jumping to get coffee, water and menus out to people. We gently razzed one of the people who finally showed up to work ("I'm early for tomorrow," he said).