Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Photo Op

I stopped into one of those been-around-forever, family-owned-and-operated-since-the-beginning-of-time kinda places to order a couple of Italian heros.

Not the De Niro-hero….the edible kind.

I’m standing there…waiting for my order to be ready…and I’m staring at this huge wall with an indescribable amount of helter-skelter, mismatched-framed photos. All different shapes and sizes.

You say they’re indescribable…but you’ll describe them anyway, won’t you?” asks my IV, the ever-opinionated Clinton Kelly.

Kathryn: “Well, you were standing right there. You saw them…are you saying you have no comment? ‘Cause you seem to have quite the opinion at the time of the alleged wall-inspection.”

CK: “It wasn’t much of an inspection…and there was nothing “alleged” about it. It was more like a roast. I couldn’t help myself.”

K: “I know, right?? What was the worst one, do you think?”

CK: (Rolls eyes, folds arms, sits back in chair) “How much time have we got?”

K: “About 300 words. Go.”

CK: “I would have to go with the 11X14 shot of the Bedazzled-Bride sitting in the back seat of the white Chevrolet convertible with the train of her dress puffed and trailed so that it covered the entire rear portion of the automobile and at least a five-foot perimeter of the grass as well. You?”

K: “Wow. That one’s gonna be tough to beat. I’m gonna have to go with the 1950’s shot of the lady with the pointy glasses standing in front of that….what was it?...a teacup collection?...in a glass display cabinet-thingie holding a baby with a long, flowy white dress that looked suspiciously like my Aunt Edith’s lace tablecloth from every Easter I can remember in Hoboken.”

CK: “Tablecloth….or dining room curtain?”

K: “Does it really matter? Take your pick. There had to be a hundred photos on that wall and there was no rhyme or reason to any of it. Weddings, christenings, birthdays. What was with all the long, flowy things? And I do believe there was a cannoli in every shot.”

CK: “Nah. You were just hungry. It looked like most of the photos were at least 15 years old. If you looked really hard, you could see some repetition of characters…like that guy who looked like Tony Sirico. Did you notice he never smiled? Not one time.”

K: “Who? I kept thinking that if they ever took those pictures down, there’d be these weird, lopsided rectangles of all different sizes…and what would they do if somebody got divorced?”

CK: “You don’t get divorced. You just disappear one day.” (Ominous music plays in background)

K: “Hey! How’d you get that ominous music to play in the background?”

C: “You don’t question. We Italians have our ways.”

K: “I thought your people were from New Zealand.”

C: “We New Zealanders have our ways. Let’s go.”

K: “Now I want a cannoli.”

jh said...

Nothing to do really with your blog but just yesterday I was thinking how I call them hero's but everyone else calls them sub. Eww. It's like they've all been corporatized. Here's to hero's & cannoli's!

Kathryn said...

Once again, our superior brain function has synched. I'd forgotten to elaborate on that very fact, oh wise friend. Other popular names for the hero are:
hoagie, grinder, blimpie, rocket, torpedo, wedge and spuckie.
But we know it's REAL name is the hero, 'cause we're from NY. Pass me that cannoli.

Anonymous said...

Cannoli = yum. Any dress with enough material to cover the rear end of a domestic car = bad.
Wedding or no wedding. Yikes.

Susan F said...

I'd kind of like to look at that wall. It sounds very interesting!

Kathryn said...

Well, it was definitely amusing...it was like one of those fender-benders where you know you shouldn't look....
You had to admire their tenacity, though...

Straight Guy said...

Grinder. I have never and will never eat a spuckie.

Kathryn said...

Oh, SG. Don't you know that a "grinder" is that thing you do on the dance floor when you're 22, horny and grooving to "Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car"? It's a HERO, bay-bee.

edder said...

We call them "submarines" or "subs" for short up here in Trawna (that's how you pronounce it if you live here).

Kathryn said...

Now "sub" I get, edder. It's straight guy's "grinder" I'm having an issue with. I'm trying to cut him some slack, though...'cause he's a GUY.

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