Saturday, March 9, 2013

Solidarity Fish Fry, Week 22: A Lenten Miracle

As advertised, Friday was Week 22 of the Solidarity Fish Fry.

No, Randy Bryce did not do his Tartar Style dance, or if he did, I was lucky enough to miss it.

In fact, even though my wife and I arrived earlier than normal, I thought that we had missed everything and everyone.  As I looked around the dining room, the only faces I recognized were our two regular union servers, Sandra and Victoria.

As we were seated at one of Victoria's tables, I started to worry that this thing had run it's course.  I know that a lot of the usual attendees are working hard at regaining some justice in this state by getting Ed Fallone elected to the Wisconsin Supreme Court and Janet Protasiewicz to Milwaukee County Circuit Court Branch 45, but still, people have to eat, right?

I should have known better than to worry.  Within minutes, Victoria introduced us to the ladies sitting at the table next to us, her mother, Darlene, and her sister, Amber:

Just a few minutes later, Veronica tells me that another group wanted to meet me.  At the table Veronica pointed out, I had the pleasure of meeting Kim, Lydia and Jaime:

They told me that they came because of reading about it on this here blog.

I can't begin to describe how heartwarming it was to not only know that there is still a strong sense of solidarity with the union workers at Serb Hall, but that we are still bringing in new people.

Someone needs to let Scott Walker know that this is what it looks like when one says, "It's working!"

But then, when all seemed right with the world, disaster struck!

They ran out of tartar sauce.  All that remained was one tiny cup.  Men wept openly and women fainted.  What could be done?!

Just as pandemonium was about to break out, a familiar figure appeared, surrounded by men wearing red robes.

The man spoke:
Our flounder, who art in the fryer,
Deboned by thy fillets.
Thy breading on,
They frying done in oil,
Unless it is baked.
Give us this day our tartar sauce,
And don't forget our rye bread.
As we share our coleslaw.
And lead us not to other sauces,
But deliver us from Scott Walker.
For thine is the solidarity,
The power and the glory,
Forever and ever.
And with that, the mysterious man picked up the last tub of tartar sauce and started pouring it out.  The sauce kept coming out as if the tub was bottomless.  Soon, everyone had all the tartar sauce they could have possibly wanted.

I never did get to speak with the familiar looking stranger, but one of the men in red - who identified himself as an Iron Cardinal - said that the man was none other than Pope Tartarsus XVI.

Even though I didn't get to speak with him, I did catch a shot of him with my camera.  See if he doesn't look familiar to you too:

And yes, there will be a Week 23 next Friday.  I hope to see you there.

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