update from sparkleup

writing/sawtooth/foxes-and-milkshakes-g.md

@@ -5,19 +5,19 @@ Two foxes walked into a bar.
 
 Well, okay, a diner. But most of those middle-American diners are outfitted with a bar type area, complete with red-and-chrome stools --- you know the sort --- which is close enough, capitalizing on that thirty-year nostalgia cycle in the way it hearkens back to the 50s or 60s. Both were full of giggles, outfitted with grins and their most casual of "nice" clothes. Somehow managing to look similar without being related, the two got along as though they were brothers. One was taller than the other, and though both were thin, he came off as lanky, whereas the shorter fox seemed more waifish --- more of a track runner than his friend, the basketball player.
 
-Although the restaurant was nearly empty --- its only other customer being one of those old hound dogs who sits at the bar, nursing his second cup of coffee while staring at the gold flakes on the formica counter as if they might somehow swirl into formation to reveal the deepest secrets of the universe or maybe just the solutions to all his problems --- the two convivial friends made their way to the corner booth and plopped down across from each other.
+Although the restaurant was nearly empty --- its only other customer being one of those old hound dogs who sits at the bar, perpetually nursing his second cup of coffee while staring at the gold flakes on the formica counter as if they might somehow swirl into formation to reveal the deepest secrets of the universe or maybe just the solutions to all his problems --- the two convivial foxes made their way to the corner booth and plopped down across from each other.
 
 Their animated discussion, more gossip than anything, was interrupted by a cat on roller skates popping her gum loudly by the table.
 
 The foxes grinned up to the waitress, who, picking up on the jovial mood, beamed down at them. "What'll it be, you two?"
 
-Straightening up, the larger of the foxes proclaimed, well rehearsed, "A vanilla milkshake, please, and a couple of spoons."
+Straightening up, the larger of the foxes proclaimed, well rehearsed, "A vanilla shake, please, and a couple of spoons."
 
 The waitress' eyes flicked between the two, but she said nothing, simply taking down the order before rather pointedly asking the other fox what he'd like. The smaller of the two stammered for a second, caught off guard, "Uh...c-coffee, please."
 
 The rollercat nodded and skated on off, leaving the two foxes to glance at each other, nervous, unsure as to whether they'd committed some sort of faux pas. Each shrugged at each other at the same time and both giggled, slipping back into their animated chatter. The hum of a shake blender promised sweetness.
 
-The feline rolled smoothly up to the table again, this time with a tray holding a shake, two mugs, and a carafe of coffee. Setting the shake in the middle and the two mugs in front of each fox, she poured them both a cup of coffee before zooming back to the kitchen with the kick of a skate.
+The feline rolled smoothly up to the table again, this time with a tray holding a shake, two mugs, and a carafe of coffee. Setting the shake pointedly before the larger fox and the two mugs in front of each of them, she poured them both a cup of coffee before zooming back to the kitchen with the kick of a skate.
 
 The coffee sat ignored by both foxes as each grabbed a spoon from the shake, pulling it out to get that first bite: that one where the spoon's already covered with a liberal coating of shake, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce, somehow better, more complete, than the spoonfuls to follow. Coated spoons made their way into waiting muzzles and that sweetness spread like silver smiles.
 
@@ -33,11 +33,11 @@ Grin softening to smile, the shorter of the two fished around in the bottom of t
 
 With his co-conspirator in shake-enjoyment still leaning forward, it took little enough for the smaller fox, movements deliberate --- if shy --- to press toward him across the table. It was fairly clear what he intended to happen next, snouts aimed at snouts, young love pinkening the insides of ears.
 
-Clear even to the waitress, who had rolled up at this inopportune moment to refill untouched coffees. With a snap of her gum and with a look hovering between disgusted and weary, she jotted something on the order pad, slapped the sheet down on the table. She grumbled, "Should'a known," and pushed off towards the kitchen.
+Clear even to the waitress, who had rolled up at this inopportune moment to refill untouched coffees. With a snap of her gum and a look hovering between disgusted and weary, she jotted something on the order pad, slapped the sheet down on the table. She grumbled, "Should'a known," and pushed off towards the kitchen.
 
 Two foxes sat in stunned silence for several seconds as the matching blush shifted from one of embarrassment, nigh on humiliation. Shaky paws snatched at the check, the larger of the two's eyes going wide, while the smaller's welled up with tears, anti-sweet and hastily brushed away.
 
-The check: "get a room, queers" under items ordered, "get out, stay out" scribbled hastily at the bottom. Taking that as their cue to take their leave, the pair made a clumsy escape from the diner, followed out the door by the disdainful gaze of the rollercat.
+"Get a room queers" was written under items ordered on the check, "get out stay out" scribbled hastily at the bottom. Taking that as their cue to take their leave, the pair made a clumsy escape from the diner, followed out the door by the disdainful gaze of the rollercat.
 
 Once they had made it out onto the curb, warm evening air wrestling with the spreading coldness of milkshake and humiliation, the two foxes hazarded cautious glances back through the glass into the diner. The waitress watched still from behind the counter.