Non S

4.2.2015

Do ya like reporters?  Me, I like'm just fine.  We'd be shit-out-of-luck without them, I think, even though for every good reporter, there's a hundred or so that suck.

If you want to find a reporter, go visit a newspaper.

Or go to a restaurant catering to reporters.  I did a few times when I lived in Chicago.

This joint had some newspapery name like, "The Daily Bugle" or something.  Naw, that's the paper in the Spiderman universe.  "Daily Planet."  Nope, that's where Clark and Lois worked.  "The Press Place."  "The Press Cafe."  No ... I got it now ... it was, "The Press Room."

I sat at the counter one day and I gotta impress on you how much of a cafe this was.  Guys in the kitchen with dirty aprons, Formica countertops, waitresses in shitty uniforms and crappy haircuts filling salt shakers and Tabasco bottles ... coffee in cups with saucers.  It was the real deal.

Anyway, at the counter, a waitress put down her salt shaker, took a pencil from behind her ear and her pad from a pocket in her apron and said, "what'll it be?"

The "Francheesie" spoke to me from the menu:  "A hot dog with cheddar cheese wrapped in bacon, served with fries and a pickle."  "I'll have the francheesie, pleasy," I said.  She smirked and wrote it down.  When asked, I said, "coffee."

The dog and coffee (in a cup on a saucer) came and the dog looked great, but was cheese-less.  The gal must have seen the look on my face and said, "Everything all right?"

I said, "There's no cheese on this francheesie."

She said, "The cheese is inside the dog, hun."  It was.  I felt like a dope.


Tonight - Club Deluxe.

Tonight's venue comes by request and please remember there's a $5 cover for Little Minsky's burlesque show.

Also, raise a glass to the memory of the iconic SF barman, Jay Johnson.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!