A fine close to a poopy summer week

So last night I left my apartment in the west village around 8pm to go meet some buddies from work over at a bar and I decided for some strange reason to throw my Islander shirt on. Even though I am an Islander fan I rarely wear the shirt especially during the summer. However last night was different and I don't know why. I tell Nemy this all the time but I wish these things would happen to him more than me even though I have the ego of a monsoon at times and could be the most narcisstic person on the planet and may need these encounters more than I think I do.



I walk across Carmine Street and onto Beford and just glance as I often do thru the glass windows facing the street at the Market Table (a nice casual burger beer/wine joint) just to see a pretty face or some city goers enjoying their meals. I thought at a glance what could have been Bill Guerin locking eyes with me but didn't believe it 100 percent so I called Bress and he got excited and hobbled over to verify. We found each other around the corner and he said, "I think he is leaving." I said, "What do I do? I'm not gonna go bother him, yea I know we worked together and he'd probably remember me but he's with his wife..." Bress looked at me and said, "Scotty get ur ass to the corner and catch up with him!" I acknowledged and knew I had to say something to a hero of mine, a former player/captain on my favorite NHL team and a friend/acquaintence in my neighborhood.



I caught up alongside him and his wife and lightly grabbed his arm and said, "So what's the best power forward in the league doin' in my neighborhood?" He recognized me and smiled immediately. Introduced me to his lovely wife and I congratulated him on a job well done. He was like, "I didn't know you guys lived around here, I would have thought you guys were from Canada." No Billy boy, just a bunch of city rebels doing our part of not letting go of a game. I told him about our future plans with the show and such and we parted ways. As I started walking away I screamed on Bleecker street, "I knew you would do it...probably the best American power forward in the game!" He smiled, 100 people turned around not knowing what had just happened...I went on with my drinking problem.



Until next time...and in case I don't see you, good afternoon...good evening and good night folks.



- Barbone