Little Bene Bene Gets Served
After wasting away for the better part of a year without serving so much as a single wooden sampler spoonful of gelato, the Bene Bene Mini-Truck of Fairfax Village fell victim to a ruthless tagging. We sent our writer deep undercover, straight to the seamy underbelly of Gelato gangland to decipher the cryptic vandalism. Eventually he returned with minor scrapes and the following translations which we now present to you, faithful reader.
’Oh Bene Bene Bene Bene Bene Bene, Bene. So cute and yet so filthy you, now, having parked your bene-advertising ass on one curb or another for a good six-plus months in the Fairfax neighborhood sans gelato uno. You served not a single scoop of gelato this year. Finally, you were tagged proper. Bene bene bene, it breaks the heart to think what might have been. If only. If only, bene, you were allowed to sing. To soar. To be everything you threatened to be, bene. Bene, bene, bene, bene, bene, bene, bene, bene, benebenebenebenebene, Bene! How my heart sings for thee, bene. Sings, but does not mourn. You tease, you. It was bound to happen, you lovely son of a bitch. Gelato my ass, pin-striped figlio di capra.’