Super, Waterbury!

Man, this guy is ten kinds of classic! Today as I was just comin' to he came gliding in with a hot tray of perfect calamari fritti, and maybe the best bloody mary I have ever tasted. His calamari are way crispier than Conchita's ever were, and his lemon aioli is way zingier. Plus he thought to include a small scoop of lime sherbet for cleansin' the palate. Oh, and he had brought the day's papers and a few magazines, and naturally an after-meal cigarette.

When I got up a couple hours later, he had a totally classy golf-type outfit laid out on the dressing table. Some caramel pleated Barry Brickens (Sly Stallone wears Brickens), sort of a light yellow polo shirt, and some crimson Bally loafers with a matching belt. I was fit!

When I got downstairs he told me I had an afternoon tee time at Seven Pines, and that Téodor would be joining me, if that was all right. Damn right that's all right! Téodor swings a pretty good stick, and it's always better to go out as a twosome, so you don't get stuck with some old man who just smokes and won't look at you.