I like pizza. It’s easy and if the people making it aren’t cretins, it can taste between very good and delicious. I have a place I go to regularly enough that the food (particularly good in its own right) is only part of the whole experience. The other part is the clientele. Probably my ‘favorite’ is Paolo, who claims to have been a stage hand at ‘La Scala’ for twenty years. Before he retired. To Brooklyn.
Unsurprisingly, I ran into Tommy there last week. He looked a little better than the time before, like at least he’d gotten some sun.
-Well, I was down there.
-Where do you think?
-Right, looking after Bern? I thought you said January. I was wondering, is that why I haven’t seen you ’round.
-I wasn’t sure he was gonna make it, from what I was hearing. So, yeah, I went down.
-He’s fine. I mean, he’s all fucked up. But he’s fine. Or will be.
-Yeah. And it was nice to get a little sun.
-I’m sure. Hey, how’s that thing coming?
-Oh. Man. I should have picked a different book.
-What’s wrong with Daisy Miller?
-She went off. Jesus. I sent her a copy and she was like ‘She’s a fucking Whoor!’ and like an idiot I didn’t understand her, I was like, ‘A what?’ ‘A WHOOR!’ I was like, what the hell is she saying? ‘A professional. You gave me a book where my daughter is a street-walker! What kind of asshole are you!’
I was like, damn, it’s literature. I didn’t say it was gonna be easy.
But she wasn’t having it, wanted her money back! I was like, no, Lady, I did the work. You bought it. It’s yours.
I don’t want this trash! How could you do this to my daughter! You’re a monster!
What a pain in the ass.
-So you finished?
-Sure. And she’s pretty much right. Daisy’s kind of a tramp. Mostly she’s just in over her head. But still, I get her point. Hey, I’m going out to watch the ponies. What are you doing, you busy?
-Come on. I’m gonna throw a hundred bucks at ’em, see if I can’t win the money I gotta pay to Malinovskiya. I fucking hate having to go into my own pocket for that.
-Sure, what the hell. Sounds like a winning plan.