The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
May 24, 2005

Market Show

Manolo and I trekked down to the farmer's market to evaluate their citrus the other day. Manolo is like a kid in a candy store down there. To wit: he brings his Fisher Price stethoscope to evaluate the melons. My favorite crepe place is down the block so I have something to look forward to. We waited on our order for thirty minutes and enjoyed the one act play before us: the head cook was confusing order numbers with dish numbers. The crepe guy was turning messy crepes and the two waitresses were so occupied with re-icing the drinks bin that a dozen crepes cooled on the counter as their order slips fell to the floor. We enjoyed the show, mostly because all of the dialog was in a strange marriage of Spanish and French. I wish the crew had lined up, joined hands and bowed. I'm still not sure what kind of crepe I ended up with, it sure wasn't what I ordered. Further, it was somewhat undercooked. Well, as someone famous once said: Hell is murky.

[signed] Nick

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