...it's a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in bacon...mmmmmmm....
"I'm going kiosking," she announced.
He looked startled. But he often did, ever since she'd shaved his eyebrows on one drunken latenightearlymorning just before passoutpoint occasion.
She explained. "At the mall, they have these kiosks, you know? Don't get them confused with the carts, because that's a totally, totally different thing. The rule is to not go into any of the shops but only shop at the kiosks."
"Mmm. Kiosking. Sounds like something Eskimos do."
"Maybe they do. Are you coming?"
He fumbled for some shoes that matched- each other, not his outfit, if it could be called an outfit. He was certainly a zero on the sexuality graph. He had no homo in him, or he wouldn't have been wearing THAT shirt with THOSE courderoys. He was SO zero that he wasn't even certain if anything on his body was clean. Including his body. Maybe he would find clean socks at a kiosk. He KNEW his socks weren't clean.
As she drove to the mall, he spotted a kiosk-like structure. "Hey, is that one?"
"One what?" She'd been concentrating on driving.
"No. That's a pavillion. It's different."
"How can you tell?"
"It always comes down to size, doesn't it?"
"Well, YOU don't have anything to worry about," she replied. And, after a moment, "Though I agree that it's kioskian in structure. But to be a kiosk, it has to be on a smaller scale."
They entered the mall. What a sight! Kiosk after kiosk after kiosk, stretching as far as the eye could see, kiosks lining the interior horizon of the mall. Eyes aglow, she stepped forth resolutely in her foolish, overpriced shoes. The first kiosk sold Hatorade,in Evil, Badass, Malicious and Spite. The next kiosk was stocked with Ugg boots in various colors not found in Nature,and the third carried furry lounge pants, mostly in hues of green. He began to become bored.
"So is a kiosk different from a pagoda?"
She tilted her head to the side, considering.
"I'll have to look that up," she said. He laughed.
"See, there's the difference between you and me. Or guys and girls in general, I guess. I'd never have admitted that I didn't know. I'd've said, A kiosk and a pagoda are the same thing, one's just Chinese and the other Laplandish. Or whatever."
She gave him the "you're so very strange" look. "By telling me that you wouldn't have admitted that you didn't know, haven't you just weakened your position for any time in the future when you claim to know something but I know you don't?"
"I never figured I was fooling you, anyway."
"Wow," she said. "Look at the beautiful, translucent skin on that redheaded kiosk girl."
She was not a zero.
Much to his delight.
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