I’m at a fancy banquet. I’m in a large hall where folding tables and plastic chairs have been pushed together to accommodate as many people as possible and the food is supplied by outside caterers who have set up a mobile kitchen. It’s one of those set menus with limited choices and meals that aren’t that filling but it allows the chefs to push food out quickly in large batches. Luckily, our table is the nearest one to the kitchen so we’re one of the first to be served. We’re receiving our desserts while the tables at the other end of the room have begun their entree’s. For my desert I’ve chosen fresh strawberries and it’s an extra pound per person for squirty cream. I take my coins up to the kitchen but they explain that they’re out of cans. I’m told that I can try another table and they suggest that I try this side of the room or I might have a long wait. I pick up a can from the table behind me who warn me that there’s not much left. I give it a good long shake and squirt out just enough.
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