Friday, October 29, 2004

Sweep the Leg

Walking home on Wednesday, I came upon a homeless dude on 59th and Columbus Circle holding a cardboard sign that read ...


Rock On,


Thursday, October 28, 2004

i suck

So I got a call from my friend Ed the day of Game 7 between the Yanks and Bosox. "Q" is our friend who resides in Boston.

Ed - Can you believe this series?
Me - I know, it's unreal.
Ed - Q's coming in tonight for the game.
Me - Really? He got tickets?! How?
Ed - He just hammered the phone lines the day they went on sale.
Me - Cool, though to be honest, I think I'd rather watch it at home. What's it gonna be, like 40 degrees?
Ed - I hear ya.
Me - What kind of seats did he get?
Ed - Not very good - somewhere in the upper deck.
Me - Ouch. Especially sittin' up there. Probably about 10 degrees colder. I'd definitely rather see it at home.
Ed - I totally hear ya.
Me - And with the wind chill up's gonna feel like 25.
Ed - Probably will.
Me - Wait, who's he going with?
Ed - Me

Friday, October 15, 2004

God Help Me - The Case of the Chewy Chicken

Quick mom story from her birthday lunch a few weeks ago - the players were me, Bronwen, my bro, his wife, their kid and mom - we go to a Cuban restaurant in Forest Hills - the baby wasn't feeling well so he was cranky and cried the whole time - makes for a special lunch

Anyway, at one point my mom asks Bronwen how she likes her dish (they ordered the same thing) - Bronwen says, "To be honest, the chicken's a little chewy."

My mom, who hadn't complained about it at all, says, "Yes, it is a little chewy isn't it?"

The rest of the meal, every ten minutes or so, she says, "This chicken is so chewy. I can barely eat it."

Towards the end, she catches the waitresses eye - the waitress whom by the way, barely spoke English - and called her over.

"I just want to tell you the chicken is chewy."

The waitress either didn't understand her or just didn't know what to say cause she just stood there.

Finally she said, "Chicken? Chewy?"

My mom continued, "Yes, the chicken is chewy. Just so you know, I come here a lot...and this is the first time the chicken's been chewy." She'd been there twice.

The waitress inquired," Do you want speak manager about chewy chicken?"

My mom continued, "Yes, please." The waitress walked away. My mom turned to me.

"Management should know that their chicken is chewy."

"I said. "Oh definitely, it's your civic duty." I felt the diameter of the hole in the lining of my stomach enlarging.

The manager walked over.

"Hi, I understand your chicken is chewy?"

"My mom replied, "Yes, hi, I just want to tell you that I come here a lot and my son's girlfriend and I both got this chicken dish...and we both think its very chewy. You may want to tell the chef."

"Okay, thank you, I certainly will, and sorry about the chewiness." The manager walked away.

"See how appreciative she was?" My mom said to me. "They want to hear things like this."

They ended up taking one of the chewy chicken dishes off the check, thereby further encouraging her for next time. Little did they know what they'd done. God help me.

Rock On,