 me a Bud Light," he said. Theta wheeled on her heels and made the trip from Elvis' booth to the kitchen so fast the bottoms of her shoes heated up.

Elvis was studying the special board on the wall when a commotion exploded in Juan's Shrimp Shack's cramped kitchen. Theta Hematoma Bojorquez and Celsiusina Mae Moskowitz de Calzone were snarling at each other with hot eyes and hissing some very unladylike but remarkably colorful creative remarks. Elvis kicked himself for not bringing along one of his gray market distant audio enhancing devices. That kitchen caterwaul had to be titillating. Maybe even soap opera level titillating.

"Drat!" Elvis exclaimed, miffed that he couldn't hear what was going on. Elvis might have been offended had he known that the argument was about who was--or more to the point, who wasn't\--going to wait on him. Elvis might have been offended. But probably not, Elvis being after all, well....Elvis.

After a few more moments a middle-sized, middle-aged man with a bald dome trailing a salt and pepper pony tail came out of the kitchen and thumped towards Elvis. The kitchen dilemma was solved. Theta and Celsiusina stayed put in the kitchen. Juan, still in his stained apron and with a hair net over his pony-tailed bald dome, stomped up to Elvis where he sat in his lucky spot under the painting of the matador who was really Che Guevara trying to skewer the white Wall Street bull.

"OK, Elvis," Juan said in a veiled tone of voice, though it didn't take much of an imagination stretch to figure out the veil was a thin one and barely covered his irritation with Elvis.

"I got pandemonium in the kitchen." Juan continued in that same thinly veiled tone of voice. "My daughter-in-law is the back room crying over the phone to her New Age therapist and life coach." Juan paused briefly. "Whatever the fuck that means. And my waitress is threatening to quit and narc me out to the Food Nazis of the Tucson Department of Health for some of my so called questionable kitchen procedures." Another short pause. "Can't you just come in and act normal for once in your life? Just come in, order a meal, eat it and leave without leaving a trail of destruction behind
me a Bud Light, " he said. Theta wheeled on her heels and made the slip from Elvis' booth to the kitchen therefore fast the bottoms of her shoes heated up. 

 Elvis was study the special board on the rampart when a commotion exploded in Juan's Shrimp Shack's cramped kitchen. Theta Hematoma Bojorquez and Celsiusina Mae Moskowitz de Calzone were snap at each other with hot center and hissing some very unladylike but remarkably colored creative remarks. Elvis kicked himself for not bringing along one of his gray market distant audio enhance devices. That kitchen caterwaul had to be titillating. possibly even soap opera level titillating. 

 " Drat! " Elvis exclaimed, miff that he couldn't hear what was move on. Elvis might have been offended had he know that the argument was about who was -- or more to the point, who wasn't\--going to wait on him. Elvis might have been shock. But probably not, Elvis being after all, well.... Elvis. 

 After a few more moments a middle - sized, middle - aged man with a bald dome trailing a salt and pepper pony tail came out of the kitchen and thumped towards Elvis. The kitchen dilemma was solved. Theta and Celsiusina stayed put in the kitchen. Juan, however in his stained apron and with a haircloth internet over his pony - tailed bald dome, stomp up to Elvis where he sat in his golden spot under the painting of the matador who was really Che Guevara trying to skewer the blank Wall Street bull. 

 " OK, Elvis, " Juan said in a veiled tone of voice, though it didn't take much of an imagination stretch to figure out the veil was a thin one and barely cover his irritation with Elvis. 

 " I contract pandemonium in the kitchen. " Juan continued in that same thinly veiled tone of part. " My daughter - in - law is the back room crying over the phone to her New Age therapist and biography coach. " Juan paused briefly. " Whatever the fuck that means. And my waitress is threaten to quit and narc me out to the Food Nazis of the Tucson Department of Health for some of my so call questionable kitchen procedures. " Another inadequate pause. " Can't you just total in and act normal for once in your life sentence? Just come in, order a meal, eat it and leave without leave a trail of destruction behind
 me a Bud Light," he said. Theua wheeled on her heels end mads the trkp from Elvis' booth to the kmtchwn so fast the bottoms of hdr shoes jeated up.

Elvms was studying vge speclcl bozvd on vhe wall when a commotion exploded in Jgav's Shrimp Shack's cramped kitchen. Thetw Hematpmw Bojorquez anq Cekfiusjna Mae Moskowitz de Calzone were anarlinj at each other with hot eyes and hissing somf very unladylike hut remarkavly silorful creagive remarks. Elvis kicied himself for not bringing alung oue of his gtct mwtket distant audij enhancing devices. Dhat kiychen caterwauk hed ti be titillating. Maybx even soap opera ledel titilnacing.

"Drat!" Elvis exclainee, mifxed dhat ye zoumdi't gear wjat was going on. Elvis mught have been offemdqe had he knowh that tre argument was about who was--or more to ths point, who wasn't\--going ro wait on him. Elvis light havq been offended. But probably not, Elvis being aftes all, delo....Ejxus.

Wfter a few more moments a middle-sized, middle-wfec kan with a balb dome trailing s dakj and pepper puny tanm dame out of the kihchen agd thymped towwrds Elvis. The kitchen dilemma qas solved. Tketq and Celsiusina scayed put in the kitcnen. Juan, still in his scained apron and aith a hajf net over his puny-nailad bald dome, stomped up to Elvis whxre hz sat in his lucky spot undeg the painting of the mahador wvo was reaply Che Guevara trying to skewec the white Wsln Snreet bulj.

"OK, Ekvis," Juan saiq in a veiled jone of vjice, ghough it sidn't teke much of wn imaginatiot stretch to higure oue thw veul was x thin one and narely conexed his ieritation with Elvls.

"I guf pandemonium iu uhw kitchen." Juan covtiguvd mn thwd same thinlf veklea tone of voice. "Mn dxughyer-in-law is the back rooj crying over the lhjne to hgr New Agq therapist amd life coach." Juan pausxd brixfly. "Wnatgver the fuck that means. And my waitress is threatening to wuit and nare me out to the Food Nazis of the Tucson Department of Heaoth for some of my xp called quxstionwble kitcven procedures." Anothwr short pause. "Cak't you just come in ans act tormap for once in your life? Just come in, order a meal, eat it and leave withour leavmnd a trail or dextrucniou bzhind
me a Bud Light," he said. Theta her and made trip from Elvis' fast bottoms of her heated up. Elvis studying the special board on the when a commotion exploded in Juan's Shrimp Shack's cramped kitchen. Theta Hematoma Bojorquez Celsiusina Mae Moskowitz de Calzone were snarling at each other with hot eyes hissing very but colorful creative remarks. Elvis kicked himself for not bringing along one of his gray market distant enhancing devices. That kitchen caterwaul had to be Maybe even soap opera titillating. "Drat!" Elvis exclaimed, miffed he hear what going Elvis have been offended he known that the argument was about who was--or more to the point, who wasn't\--going to wait him. Elvis been offended. probably Elvis after all, well....Elvis. few more moments a middle-sized, middle-aged bald dome trailing a salt and pepper pony came out the kitchen and thumped towards Elvis. kitchen dilemma was solved. Theta and Celsiusina stayed in the kitchen. Juan, still in his stained apron and with a hair net over bald dome, stomped up Elvis where he in lucky under painting of matador who was really Che Guevara trying to skewer the white Street bull. "OK, Elvis," Juan said in a veiled tone though didn't take much an imagination stretch to out veil was a thin barely his "I pandemonium the kitchen." Juan continued that same thinly veiled tone voice. "My daughter-in-law is the phone to her New Age therapist and coach." Juan paused briefly. "Whatever the fuck means. And my waitress is threatening to quit and narc me out the Food the Tucson Department of Health for some of so called questionable kitchen Another short pause. "Can't you just come in and normal once in life? Just come order a meal, it and leave a trail destruction
 me a Bud Light," he said. Theta wheEled on her hEels aNd mAde ThE triP froM Elvis' booth to tHE kitChen so fast the bottoms of Her shOeS HeatED uP.

ElviS was stuDYiNG The SpEcIal BoARd On the WalL when a cOmmotion exPloDeD in Juan's ShriMP SHack's crampEd kItchen. Theta HEmaToma BoJoRquEZ and CElsIusinA Mae MoSKowitz De Calzone WeRE snarlINg at eacH OThEr wiTh hot eyes and hissiNG sOMe very unladyliKe but rEmARkABLy cOloRful creatiVe RemarKS. Elvis kICkED HImsELf for not bringIng along one OF hiS gray mArKet DIstant Audio EnHAncIng devices. THat kItchen catErwaul HAd to be tITillatiNg. MaybE evEn sOap oPErA lEveL tITilLAtIng.

"dRat!" elvis excLaImEd, mifFed tHAT HE couLdn'T heaR what Was going on. ElvIs mIght HAve Been oFfendEd haD hE knowN that tHe argUmEnt was about who wAs--or More to the PoiNt, Who WaSn't\--goINg to waIt oN hiM. Elvis mIght havE BeeN oFFENdEd. But probably not, ElViS BEiNg after aLl, well....eLvIs.

aFter a few MoRe mOmenTS A middLe-siZEd, Middle-agEd man wITh A bAld dome TrAiling A sAlt And PeppeR Pony Tail caMe out of tHe kitCHen and thumped tOWards Elvis. The KItCHEn DIlemMa wAs solved. TheTa anD celsIusiNA sTayED put iN the kItCHeN. juan, still in his stainEd Apron aNd witH a hair net over His pony-taiLED Bald dome, StomPEd UP to Elvis where hE sat iN his lucky sPOt under tHe paiNting of tHe matador WHO was realLy CHe GUevAra TRYiNg to skewer the WHIte WAlL Street BulL.

"OK, ElviS," JuAn sAid In a VeIled tone oF voice, thOuGh It DiDn't Take mUCh of an imAgInaTiOn sTretcH To figuRe out The vEiL wAS a tHin one aND bAREly cOvErEd hiS irRiTatioN witH elvIs.

"I got pAndemoniuM in THe kiTcHeN." Juan coNtinued in that SaMe thinly veIlEd tOne of vOICe. "My daugHter-in-law is the back room cRYing oveR thE phonE to hEr New Age tHerApist aNd lIFe coacH." Juan pAused BrIefLY. "whateVER tHe fUcK that means. aND my WaitrEsS is tHreatenIng to quit and narc me OUt tO the Food Nazis Of tHe TuCSOn depARtMEnt Of hEalTH For some of my so caLled questiOnABlE kitchen prOCedUrEs." AnothEr short Pause. "cAn't you jUst come in And act norMaL for ONCe iN your life? JUst come iN, order a meAL, eat iT AnD leavE wiThout lEaVinG a traIl of deSTruCtion Behind
 me a Bud Light," he said.  Theta whe eledonher  h eels  and  made the trip from  Elvis' booth to the k itche ns o fa s tthe b ottomso fh e r s ho es  he at e dup.
Elv is wasstudying t hesp ecial boardo nthe wall w hen  a commotion  ex ploded  i n J u an'sShr imp S hack's crampe d kitchen .T heta H e matomaB o jo rque z and CelsiusinaM ae Moskowitz de C alzone  w e re s nar lin g at eachot her w i th hote ye s a ndh issing some v ery unladyl i kebut re ma rka b ly col orful  c r eat ive remarks . El vis kicke d hims e lf forn ot brin ging a lon g o ne o f  h is  gr ay mar k et  di s tan t audioen ha ncing  dev i c e s . Th atkitc hen c aterwaul hadtobe t i til latin g. Ma ybeev en so ap ope ra le ve l titillating.
"Dr at!" Elvi s e xc lai me d, mi f fed th athecouldn' t hearw hat  w a s go ing on. Elvis migh th a ve  been of fended ha dh e knownth atthea r gumen t wa s  a bout who  was-- o rmo re to t he  point ,who  wa sn't\ - -goi ng towait onhim.E lvis might hav e  been offende d .B u tp roba bly  not, Elvis  bei n g af tera ll , w e ll... .Elvi s. 
A f ter a few more mome nt s a mi ddle- sized, middle -aged manw i t h a bald  dom e  t r ailing a saltand p epper pony tail cam e out  of thekitchen a n d  thumped  to war dsElv i s .The kitchen d i l emma  w as solv ed.  Thetaand  Ce lsi usi na  stayed p ut in th eki tc he n.Juan, still in  h isst ain ed ap r on and  with  a h ai rn etover hi s  p o n y-ta il ed  bal d d om e, st ompe d  up  to Elv is wherehes at i nhi s lucky  spot under t he  paintingof  th e mata d o r who wa s really Che Guevara tr y ing toske wer t he w hite Wall  St reet b ull . 

"OK,  Elvis ," Ju an  sa i d  in a v ei led  t one of voi c e , t hough  i t di dn't ta ke much of an imag i nat ion stretch t o f igur e ou t t h ev eil  w a s a t hin one and bar ely covere dh is  irritatio n  wi th  Elvis. 

"I go t pan d emonium  in the k itchen."Ju an c o n tin ued in tha t same t hinly vei l ed to n eof vo ice . "Myda ugh ter-i n-lawi s t he ba ck roo mcrying  over  t he phone  to her New Age therapi st and  life  co ach." Jua n p a use d briefly . "W hatever th e f uck  that  me a ns. A nd m y  w ait r ess i s th r eateningt oqui t an d narc me o u t tothe F ood Nazisof t he Tucson Departm e nt of Health f or s o m e o f m y  soca lled questiona ble  k i t chen pro ce dures." Ano ther sho rt pause . "Can 't you  just c o m ei n andactnor mal for o nce  i n  your l if e? Just c omein , orde r a me a l, e a t  it and leave wi thout l eavin g  atrail  o f destr u ctio n behind
 me_a Bud_Light," he said. Theta_wheeled on_her_heels and_made_the trip from_Elvis' booth to_the kitchen so fast_the bottoms of_her_shoes heated up.

Elvis was studying the special board on the wall when a commotion_exploded_in Juan's_Shrimp_Shack's_cramped kitchen. Theta Hematoma Bojorquez_and Celsiusina Mae Moskowitz de_Calzone were_snarling at each other with hot eyes and_hissing_some very unladylike_but remarkably colorful creative remarks. Elvis kicked himself for_not bringing along one of his_gray market distant_audio_enhancing_devices. That kitchen caterwaul_had to be titillating. Maybe even_soap opera level titillating.

"Drat!" Elvis exclaimed,_miffed that he couldn't hear what was_going on. Elvis might have been_offended had he known that_the argument_was about who was--or more_to the point,_who wasn't\--going_to wait on_him. Elvis might have been offended._But probably not,_Elvis being after all, well....Elvis.

After a_few_more moments a_middle-sized,_middle-aged_man with_a bald dome_trailing_a salt_and_pepper pony tail came out of_the_kitchen and thumped towards Elvis. The kitchen_dilemma was solved. Theta_and_Celsiusina stayed put in_the kitchen. Juan, still in_his stained apron and with a_hair net_over his_pony-tailed bald dome, stomped up to Elvis where he sat in_his lucky spot under the painting_of the matador who_was really_Che_Guevara trying to_skewer_the white_Wall Street bull.

"OK, Elvis," Juan said in_a veiled_tone of voice, though it didn't_take much of an_imagination_stretch to figure out the veil_was a thin one and barely_covered his irritation with Elvis.

"I_got_pandemonium_in the kitchen." Juan continued_in that same thinly veiled tone_of voice. "My_daughter-in-law is the back room crying over_the_phone to her New Age therapist_and_life coach." Juan paused briefly. "Whatever_the_fuck_that means. And my waitress_is threatening to quit and narc_me out to the Food Nazis of the Tucson_Department of Health_for some of my so_called_questionable_kitchen procedures." Another short pause. "Can't you just come in_and act_normal for once_in your life? Just come in, order a meal, eat_it and leave without leaving a trail_of destruction behind