Your Ad

I got your advertisement through the mail slot
You want me to eat at your establishment
It's a good offer I admit
But I'm arrested by the hideous design
Harsh characters printed in red and black ink on coarse paper
A culmination of thousands upon thousands of years of artistic expression and technological invention
And it’s come to this

I pick up your paper from the floor where it lands
My retinas do their work
Existing is strange
Receiving your junky entreaty is but one point in the timeline of my day
Fraught with inputs screaming for attention

Restaurant owner, I fail you
Instead of scanning your QR code
I have fallen into contemplation of human history
Paused here in the dining room
Or glitched perhaps
On my way from the door to the recycling bin