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You Can Take the Boy Out of Brooklyn

Lunch at the Sea Grill today with three co-workers. Greens for $10; two crabcakes for $32. Classy. Yummy. Beautiful. Seated at a four-top. Jack takes a seat facing the ice skating rink. Later complains, “This seat sucks.” I remark at how surprised I was that he had chosen that seat in the first place.

His reply, “I wanted to face the big, gold, naked guy. Goldmember.”

“Prometheus,” I inform him flatly.

Later a child starts getting cranky nearby. Jack demands, “Shut the fu*k up. Who brings kids to the Sea Grill?” I tell him of Dim Sum Go Go and he wonders if I’ve ever been to Sum Dum Goy which evokes a big guffaw from deep within his belly. All along, several women parade to the Ladies Room past our table and back again. Finally no longer able to keep shut, he asks “Have you seen the asses on these women? Jesus! I bet they all have their own zip codes.”

And he wonders why I didn’t invite him to Sheila’s party.

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