Writing group, mini write - please pass the butter.

So I've finally started attending writing group with several local Tucson aspiring writers. Today was only my second time attending. I haven't been writing much and haven't written anything for the group. Usually, the members bring something they've written or are working on. So I got out my notebook to see if I had a poem or something to share and the first page I opened to was a grocery list, from the other day. I joked, "Well, I have this grocery list." And my friend Dave, suggested i wrote a short story using all of the items on the list. So I promptly did just that. And here is the outcome. I made only a few slight changes since this afternoon including an extra line or two having noticed I had forgotten one item on the list. If you're feeling adventurous try to guess the items on my shopping list. 

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There was coffee in the morning - fresh roasted - the deep aroma filled the air. Lucy and I sat on the patio of the Boboli cafe, catching up. She'd been on trip overseas for the last several months. Spent 1/2 the time in Europe & 1/2 the time in Africa.
"An amazing continent", she gushed.
I sat half listening to the drone of her voice and mostly in my own mind and thoughts, nodding and vocalizing when appropriate. I've gotten good at that with Lucy. She's a pseudo friend. Never much needs a whole lot of interaction. Just a willing audience.
"You know, Nora's been hitting the sauce pretty heavily..."
"hmm" I nodded, barely noticing the topic of conversation had changed.
There was a sprinkle of rain starting to fall. I thought of Portland.
Our tortellini with lunchmeat, broccoli and melted cheese arrived and Lucy's tirade was paused briefly while she stuffed a spoonful in her mouth then went on in garbled litany.
"and Kenny's wife, dear god, she's become a whiny bitch. Never stops talking about her poor feet. She's got those corns, ya know..."
"uhm hmm" i mutter as i shove some of the pasta in my face. Savoring the meats.
"I don't know how Kenny stands her... can you pass the butter?"
I pass it to her and take a long gulp of my oj then finally during a pause tell her I've gotta run. The kitty is waiting for her friskies.