Pardon me Roy

Last night my sister arrived at Penn Station. She’s here to visit me for the next week during her spring break. I met her at the station to guide her safely back to Staten Island, but first we stopped at the in-station Roy Rogers so she could get some supper.

“Do you think I can ask for no ice?”

I assured Shannon that I had full confidence in her abilities to make a request for ice to be omitted from her drink.

“I’ll have a #4, with fries, and a pepsi, no ice.”

“Pepsi, no ice,” repeated Roy’s representative.

I reached out to mockingly pat her on the back, even as the man scooped ice into her cup.