Scene: The upscale restaurant of an unnamed Portland hotel. Three women having lunch. Chatting, laughing, eating. One of the women has the "chicken noodle soup": a bowl of broth, two petite chicken roulades and a large vegetable ravioli on the bottom. Very nouvelle.
Suddenly: "Is this food?" the woman asks, taking a ring of plastic out of her mouth and examining it, possibly mistaking it for cellophane noodles.
It was not.
After much hilarity, discussion and negotiations with the staff, the soup charge is removed and a dessert is provided.
Final question, when the bill is presented: "Do you take plastic?"
Waitress answers: "No, we only serve it." Ba-dum-bump.
The soup




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