I’m reciting the specials to a two top by the window. In typical yuppie fashion they don’t make eye contact. Sick of talking to these social misfits my eyes begin to wander. A pretty girl walks past the restaurant with her dog. I take an appreciative look.

I glance back at my table. Nope, still not looking at me. I look out the window again.

People of all shapes and sizes walk by on this hot day. I’m just getting around to the fish specials when I see HIM.

I blink my eyes.

No it can’t be.

Lumbering towards the restaurant, in all his dreadful majesty, is the infamous Dark Lord of the Sith.

Darth Vader.

“Excuse me one sec,” I say to my customers.

I run out the front door. Openmouthed I watch Vader approach. Funny -he looks a lot taller in the movies.

“Hi,” I say in amazement.

“Hello there,” Darth Vader replies pleasantly.

“Must be hot as hell in that suit.”

“You ain’t kidding,” Vader says walking past me.

I stand and watch the Dark Lord go around the corner. The pretty girl with the dog comes next to me. She’s chuckling softly.

“Tell me I wasn’t seeing things,” I ask her.

“You weren’t,” she laughs.

“For a moment there I thought I had to go back on the meds.”

“No – you really saw Darth Vader walking down the street,” she says.

“He must be sweating bullets in that outfit.”

“I think he’s going to a costume party somewhere.”

“God I hope so.”

“You know those Star Wars fans….” the girl says shrugging.

I thank the girl and walk back inside.

Of course the yuppies are looking at me now.

“Sorry folks but Darth Vader just walked by.” I say happily.

The couple looks at me like I’m smoking crack.

“Well, that’s not something you see everyday,” I add weakly.

“We’re ready to order now,” the man says flatly.

I guess some people have no sense of humor.

The man and woman tell me what they want. Without saying thank you they dismiss me by carelessly thrusting their menus in my face. I feel a sudden hot spurt of anger.

I reach out with the Force and wrap it’s dark tendrils round the couple’s throats. It would be fun to see them sputter and choke. I squeeze.

Nothing happens.

I mentally squeeze harder.

Still nothing.

The man looks at me quizzically. “We’re done here waiter,” he says.

“Very good sir,” I say disappointedly. Taking their menus I head to the back. Gerald, another waiter, is sitting by the POS computer mopping his brow. Even inside the Bistro the heat’s oppressive.

“You’ll never guess who I saw outside,” I say entering the order.

“Who?” Gerald asks.

“Darth Vader.”

“Really?” Gerald says, his face brightening.

“Must be a costume party somewhere.”

“Guy dressed up as Vader in this heat? He’s crazy.”

“I should have asked him if he wanted a job here,” I sigh.

“Can you imagine that? He’d choke the shit out of all the customers,” Gerald laughs.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you could do that? I wanted to mentally strangle those rude yuppies on table twenty-six. Too bad I can’t do it.

Gerald’s eyes widen. “Your powers are weak old man,” he says.

“Screw you Gerald.”

Gerald walks away laughing.

I angrily watch table twenty-six. Some people go out to eat because they’re hungry. Others eat out because they’re too lazy to cook. But some people frequent restaurants to indulge a false sense of superiority.

I really wish I could force choke those bastards.

Oh well.

I guess I have to spend more time in my meditation chamber.

Now where did I put my lightsaber? That’ll fix ’em.

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