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Served after 11 a.m. Tika chicken wrap available until the 13th July 26. Fies applied to delivery orders subject to availability. The following podcast contains explicit language.

All along, this was what was supposed to happen.

A novella about the inauguration, written and read by Curtis Sittenfeld.

Part 4 of 5.

Their father and son.

The father apparently is named Bruce.

The son is Caleb.

They drove here, yes, drove, from Nebraska.

They left Lincoln yesterday morning, stayed last night at what Bruce cheerfully describes

as a fleabag motel outside Toledo, then rose today at the crack of dawn

and put in another ten hours, hence they're hitting the sack, as Bruce also puts it, before

9 p.m. this evening. They're obam maniacs who started volunteering for the campaign back in February

07, Bruce explains, and wild horses couldn't have

kept them from the inauguration. Caleb has never visited Washington. Bruce worked on Capitol Hill

during his idealistic youth more years ago than he cares to remember, but he hasn't returned in

decades, and he's excited as hell to see the back end of

George W. Bush and celebrate the advent of change that's been far too long in coming.

This information emerges while Patrice stands in the doorway with her arms folded.

Aunt Lettie stands behind her wigless and nightgown peering into the room.

Bruce perches on the edge of the fold-out couch, above the covers, in his t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts dotted with faded

red hearts. It's not as if Patrice is looking, but the boxers are on clear display, along with his

...