Thursday, October 13, 2005

Gallagher's at Newark Airport with the big band honking away in the upper background along with the sweet tang of onion rings and there's a bartender calls you buddy, pal, my friend, surprisingly old school but why not really? And a bonhomie among the waitstaff, the small-

I love to get there early, you become alive.

He called - the bartender - he called a mulatto waitress "two-tone.'' Hey Two-Tone.

-voiced black waitresses gamely playing along.

There's a guy at the bar, says he's from New Hampsheeah. He talks about here's what I like about sitting at the bar. The girls – you see them – here's what I. What I like. To sit here. To sit at the bar – you see the girls. You can see their – at the bar, you can. Bartender: what? You can see their thongs. You get a view.

The man from New Hampsheeah likes to drink wine and he has an ever-so-slight overbite. Ruffled dirty blond hair and unflattering glasses. The bartender humoring. I hear that, I hear that. But turned away the same time.