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.”
2 comments:
Brother, I so miss you guys. You know I love you all, and I'll be damned if I ever find a worthwhile haunt on the Upper East Side... but I do not miss the neighborhood. The whole being-the-target-of-ridicule-because-I-don't-have-a-job-that-involves-the-wearing-of-fucking-chukka-boots-and-intermittent-walks-along-a-picket-line thing gets real old after awhile.
That young man breaking into the car cleaned up his act and went on to become Paulie Shore and the world is filled with comedy today.
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