There is a fifth dimension. Beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow. Between science and superstition. And it lies between the pit of man's fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone.
A man reserves a table for six at a the Temp. Two human beings drop out and the table becomes a 4 top. The restaurant is advised of this change several hours before. Nevertheless, the snobby crotchety sullen hostess presents them with the table for six. They stare at the 6 top. She says nothing can be done. They must decide how to arrange themselves.
After the diners are seated at their own bewildering discretion, the snobby crotchety sullen hostess stares at her hopeless reservation book. Diners come and go. Those without reservations are dismissed. Carryout orders are denied. The room is 80% empty. Yet the hostess explains that their table requests cannot be met. Not tonight. Not next week. Certainly not on Valentine's Day.
Meanwhile, the excellent waiter (Ray) serves the (excellent) meals. He is knowledgable, attentive, efficient and friendly. His menu recommendations are spot-on. His service is engaging. The human diners can only hope he is the true Temp. And not that he exists only in The Twilight Zone.
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