no pickles…

How we would laugh whenever we went to that restaurant! After our third visit, we begged them…no pickles! Every time, the pickle juice made our potato chips soggy. That place was mad for pickles! Every plate they served had ’em. The food was actually great. That’s why everyone went. Eager, he proposed to me the night we ate barbequed ribs and hamburger dills. He couldn’t put my engagement ring on my finger because of the mess. We were saved by a roll of paper towels when the restaurant took pity on us. They almost had to hose us down! They offered each of us one free dessert to celebrate. But we’d had our fill of pickles. So we declined. On the night of our first wedding anniversary, we were  considering whether to go fancy or revisit “Chez Pickles.” My husband decided that he had a  craving for spaghetti. And there they were – waiting for us – two gherkins messin’ with the marinara.

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