Danny nods. He turns to the waitress and says, "I'll have the cheeseburger sliders."

As she writes down the order, Danny pours out his own Coke into the champagne flute, laughing softly and shaking his head all the while. This is a level of absurdity he never thought his life would reach.

"I'm surprised they didn't call it--I don't know, lightly seared beef tartare served on a soft bun bed." Or at least, he thinks that's what burgers would be called in fancy food terminology.