Thursday is for greasy food
Mary Worth, 2/28/19
I suppose the meals in front of our Estelle and Date #3 are supposed be some kind of cruel commentary on their respective weights — willowy Estelle allows herself only a single slice of pizza, whereas the portly gent orders an entire pie — but I’d like to imagine that she’s actually eaten pretty much a whole pizza herself in silence while this dude was too busy weepingly telling her the detailed story of his wholly justified bigamy to even touch his food. Anyway, this reminds me of an internet date I went on where the lady spent the entire time talking about how she was in unrequited love with her best friend. She didn’t cry, but she came close! And the very next date I went on turned out to be with … the person I would eventually marry. So hold out, Estelle! You’re almost there!
I like the awkward pause we’re invited to linger on in the second panel here, as Crankshaft and Keesterman and the waitress all nervously contemplate Ralph’s seeming disregard for his own mortality. He’s smiling because it’s all a jape, of course, but for that moment he seems to be saying “Eh? Eh? Finally freeing myself of life in this depressing hell-dimension by doubling down on hedonistic pleasure? Eh?”