No Soup for Our Editor (A NYC Short Story)

Fat woman #1: Why do people keep asking me [about the long line]? Do I have one of those approachable faces?

Fat woman #1: The guy thing is, she has no problem attracting. And anyone willing to put out will never get love. Doesn’t matter if you’re a size 2 or a size 20.

Fat woman #1: I am a soup lover!

Fat woman #1: Look at the makeup on this lady with the green hat coming up! She takes the crosstown bus sometimes. Spectacular. Spectacular. Can you imagine if Joe saw that? He’d come over and ask her out.
Fat woman #2: That’s everyday?
Fat woman #1: That’s not special, not Halloween. I love it when she wears her army fatigues. She wears the jacket, the pants…

Fat woman #2: What are you in the mood for? Something chicken noodley or something exotic?
Fat woman #1: I might get two!

Fat woman #1: So Yen Ling. I asked her, “What do you want to be called? Yen or Yen Ling?” She says, “Yen Ling”, I say, “Fine.” So I’m going around introducing her and she’s saying “Yen”, “Yen”, “Yen.” It’s just like, if you want to be called Yen Ling, why are you saying “Yen”?
Fat woman #2: What’s her last name?
Fat woman #1: Yu.
Fat woman #2: Yu?
Fat woman #1: It’s one of those.
Fat woman #2: Sounds like a comedy routine. “Who?” “Yu!”
Fat woman #1: “Who, you?”

Note: The Nazi was sold out of crab bisque, and all of the meaty soups except for mulligatawny.

–42nd & 5th