My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

We brought Doug over to brainstorm names for the chai cart.

“Do you have any hard liquor?” he asked. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger. He was serious. Work wouldn’t start any sooner. We scrambled through cupboards and came up with an old bottle of Blavod, the black vodka. He took four fingers over ice.

“Chai harder. Don’t Chai this at home. Chai little pony.” He was sitting on the roof of my shed as we grilled hamburgers. The shed has steps up to it’s flat roof. Doug was like the Lord, sending decrees down from on high.

“I’m going Chai-yakking this weekend. Chia-m sorry you can’t make it. You va-chai-na.”

The mere whiff of something up in the 80 proof range had his mind firing like a night vision sniper. Deadly accuracy.

“I’ve been watching Mad Men. I should be getting paid a lot of money for this.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For this: Big Trouble in Chai-cart Town. The Chai-ing Game. Fast Times at Ridgemont Chai.”

“Come get your burger. It’s starting to burn,” I told him.