:: Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swinger's Club ::

:: Sunday, March 06, 2005 ::

mr. tom mcnally

I sat down beside you at Odessa this morning and ordered a cup of coffee, wheat toast and two eggs, over-easy, along with a side of corned beef. Your Irish blood must have prompted you to do this asian kid a favor and proffer some sound advice as to where I could find the juiciest corned beef in the city, as opposed to ordering the dry and stringy Eastern European variety found here.

You initially had trouble hearing me, but we managed just fine after I spoke a bit louder towards your hearing aid. Your voice was warm and inviting, giving the impression that you're no stranger to good conversation, especially with the close proximity to other diners at this trucker-style table.

Out of my similar desire to enjoy a good conversation over breakfast, I let you in on the sordid discovery that my old college ex recently got engaged (to a Canadian no less). We exchanged a few laughs about past loves before I caught you eyeing that so-called 'stringy' corned beef on my plate. The next thing I know you're asking me to slice a small piece of it for you to taste!

You know you want to cut me off a small piece of that corned beef, don't you son. No, not that piece, the other one.

How could I resist that Irish charm? So I generously offer him a taste and soon after proceed to hear him bash my first meal of the day.

This is not good corned beef. Too dry and stringy.

Does it get any better than this guy?

You jokingly ask if I have any Irish in me, then let me in on a brief bio: You were born in Astoria, Queens and have lived in New York your entire life. You come to Odessa's every Sunday after church, the one across from the park, where you've been playing the organ for longer than I've been alive. You speak spanish to the waitress, whom you point out is from Argentina, and as she's pouring me a fresh cup of coffee, you're making sure she's wrapping up your leftover toast.

She knows I always take whatever I can't finish home. I don't like to waste anything, you know.

Yes, I know, Mr. McNally.

Upon learning that my waitress is from Argentina, I excitedly tell her that's where I'm headed in 2 weeks time for spring break - 10 days in South America split between Argentina and Uruguay. Maria's eyes liven up and speak with a fondness for her native country and envy for my upcoming travels.

You have to come back and tell me everything about your trip!

Of course I will, Maria.

And upon finishing the last of my buttered toast smeared with raspberry jam, I leave a tip on the counter and gather my things.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. McNally. Thanks for the good conversation!"

Are you in the phonebook? I'm here every sunday after I finish playing at the church across the park. Will I see you again?

Yes, Mr. McNally. I'll make it a point to come back here again on another Sunday so that we can continue our discussion on the finer points of corned beef. And I promised Maria I'd be back with stories, too.

And as I headed home, I thought to myself 'only in this city can an asian kid go into an Eastern European diner and swap corned beef with an Irish man speaking spanish to your Argentinian waitress.

Here's to you, Mr. Tom McNally.

...