
"Hello, ma'am. May I get you something to drink?" I asked.
"Oh dear, I dunno. Ooooh I dunno. Ooooh...ooooh."
"I can come back in a few minutes if you want to take a moment to decide."
"Nooooo, I'm ready. Ooooh, I would like a vodka on the rocks with olives. A lot of olives. I love olives."
"More than three?"
"Oooh, are they the big olives or the little olives. I love olives."
"They are the big olives," said I.
Olive Oyl smiled from ear to ear and said, "Ooooh, I love the big olives. I'll take as many as you can give me."
I went back to the bar and crammed five olives on to the tiny toothpick and carried it back to the table. She eyed the glass and went straight for the olives. I just knew that her panties were a little wet with olive oil at the very thought of downing those delicious salty little fruits.
"Ooooh dear, these are big olives. Thank you so much. I love olives," she said again as she swallowed two of them at once.
"Yes, I heard that about you. Would you like to order any food or will you be having olives for dinner tonight?" I followed that remark with a laugh so she would think I was being funny and not bitchy even though I was being bitchy and not funny.
"Oooh dear. Hmmmm. Ooooh my. Oh, I know! I would like an order of spinach artichoke dip."
Apparently her years with Popeye had rubbed off on her and she was a big fan of the spinach can. I was afraid to ask her about Popeye. He was older than Olive Oyl was so he's probably dead now. I also wanted to ask her who the hell Swee'Pea was and if he was the bastard child of Popeye or Bluto, but it seemed too personal for a waiter to ask a customer. I almost shared with her how I played her one summer in an amusement park in Denver but decided that she probably wouldn't care. (Yes, I really did. I was Olive Oyl at Elitch Gardens the summer of '87 so if you hugged her that summer, you probably hugged me.) The rest of the night with Olive Oyl was uneventful. She had her two drink minimum and enjoyed the show. She gave me a good tip and went on her way. I was just happy to see that Olive Oyl was alive and well and living in New York City. Now if I could only find out whatever happened to Josie and the Pussycats.
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