Jonah picked a cheap diner for lunch that’s been around for decades, but which we’ve never been to. The parking lot was mostly unusable because the roof was being replaced. There were roofers on the roof, a vat of tar out front, shingles everywhere, and everything smelled like tar.
We picked a seat and sat down and Jonah asked the waitress, “What’s cooking outside?” The waitress looked as confused by the question as I felt. “Our roof is cooking outside!” she said.
Apparently Jonah had confused a tar vat with smoke coming out from it with a barbecue grill.
“I’ll have that, then,” Jonah said.
“You’ll have our roof?” the waitress asked, more confused.
“Well, we have some barbecue today.”