I was off from work yesterday, beating the hundred-degree heat in my air-conditioned sanctum sanctorum, having switched with my kitchenmate, Scott — the guy in the photo — so he could get in some time in a recording studio on Monday; Scott’s been part of our wacky little pirate ship of barbecue and booze for about six months, hailing from Texas and providing authentic cowboy flavor to the joint. The guy’s easy-going, funny, friendly, and slightly demented, so he fits right in. During his relatively short time here in the wilds of Crooklyn, he has been constantly astonished by the day-to-day madness, rudeness, and outright assholism of the Big Apple, gleefully adding crazy anecdotes to his repertoire for the amusement of his friends and loved ones back home.
When I returned to work today, as always happens when I’m away, I missed witnessing something idiotic… Fuck it, this is Scott’s story, so I’ll let him tell it:
“Bunche, you are gonna love this story. I stepped out of the kitchen for a smoke and looked over toward Kitchen Bar [note: our distinguished competition next door] where I saw a fiftyish Italian guy having dinner with some hot oriental chick. The guy saw me and asked, ‘Yo! Food ovah there’s pretty good, hunh?’ I said yeah, and then the guy went into the standard, ‘I lived in dis naybuhood since befaw yooz wuz born’ — an intro that never leads to anything good — so I said, ‘Oh yeah, I heard it’s changed a lot over the years.’
“The guy looked at me and said, ‘Yeah, all the fuckin’ yuppies and the hipsters fuckin’ up the place… Ya know, about twenny-five years ago some fuck was tryin’ ta break inta my car with a screwdriver, so I took it from him an’ fuckin’ stabbed him with it.’
“The mook then went silent and waited for my reaction, so I asked, ‘What happened to the guy?’ The mook looked at me like I’d grown an extra head and said, ‘What the fuck kinda question is that?!!? I don’t care! I hope the prick died! Ya know what? That’s kinda funny! I’m gonna tell alla my friends about that! You’re gonna be a fuckin’ legend!’ Like me asking what happened to the guy was the most asinine thing he’d ever heard!
“With that, I finished my smoke and hauled ass back to the kitchen.”
“Man, I love this neighborhood.”