Out of It

The menu had a whole section for omelettes, all different kinds. Farmers, with potatoes in it, a big piggy that had bacon in it and ones with vegetables, or even greek cheese. His mouth was watering. The coke arrived in a red cup plastic with sort of dinosaur scales on it. Not really dinosaurs, but there was a texture to it. He felt like he was on another planet. Or in another country, all these things that he had grown up with seemed different in a pleasant way. Like he was seeing them for what they were, or to himself when he was younger, or something like this. Maybe how he'd think about them when they'd disappeared. When all these things would be gone.

He suddenly had the feeling or ordering the whole menu. He wished he could try everything, he wished he didn't get hungry, he wished he had the time. 

Then he turned to his coke, he didn't use a straw he preferred the ice to come out a few at a time, and he'd drink the coke and eat some ice. He liked that.  Then he decided, on the omelette. He'd just get one, and enjoy the hell out of it.