Somewhat disconcertingly he was brandishing a knife when I arrived, but it turned out he was in the middle of slicing the rolls for the day’s food.
“I’m 68,” he reminded me, looking fighting fit in a black T-shirt, with a silver chain around his neck, “and I’ve been up since three in the morning. Don’t tell me Americans won’t do the tough jobs.”
[...]As we were chatting, one of Joey’s well-fed regulars popped in and asked for a double helping of whiz. For breakfast.

When he left, Joey confided that the whiz could be speeding him to a heart attack. “But in moderation there’s no better stuff,” he added quickly, “although I’d recommend the provolone.”

Jesus Christ, you ol’ coot: This article pretty much has it all. We’re almost proud of you.
BBC: Damn Yankees

This entry was posted on Monday, July 2nd, 2007 at 9:02 am.