"Yesterday I was having breakfast with my septuagenarian pal Ziggy Friedlander. He was having his usual menudo with a side of grits. I was ordering pancakes. Ziggy reprimanded me. I'm a diabetic. I changed my order to scrambled eggs and finely chopped lettuce. I excused myself to go to the restroom. I spend so much time in front of urinals these days that in my mind I picture myself the practitioner of a new religion, The Standing Marcelites. I found the waitress before she could put in our order and reordered pancakes, this time with whipped cream and bananas.
When I got back to the table I immediately initiated conversation, hoping to lead him away from my looming breakfast.
"Zig do you think Trump Supporters would wear arm bands if he asked them to?" I said.
"What, are you meshuga?" replied Ziggy.
"No, really, honestly what do you think?" I said.
"At breakfast you want me to think of such things?" said Ziggy
"What things are you thinking of?" I asked.
"You know precisely what I am thinking of," he said, distractedly tapping the side of his coffee cup with his spoon.
The waitress returned with our breakfast. Ziggy asked for more cilantro. My pancakes looked as if the Marx Brothers or Bill Murray worked in the kitchen. My ploy worked, he said nothing about the pancakes. After his ususal ritual with the menudo -- putting the cilantro in first and stirring, then adding a few splashes of hot sauce, stirring lightly just the surface of the stew, then sprinkling the finely chopped onion over the surface and vigorously stirring, finally, applying the lime juice and commencing to slurp it rather loudly from a spoon not sufficiantly large enough to appease his generous appitite, he looked up at me, looked me right in the eye, which was not typical for him and said, "Yes."
"Me too," I said.
We both then changed the subject. Ziggy posited that Larry Flint, the pornographer, may be a true patriot. I asked if he thought he could draw me a picture of Marcel Duchamp. Ziggy is a marvelous draughtsman and artist..." From "Lost in the Neighborhood With Books" By Franklin Cincinnatus