the sleazy men post

-This is a marriage, not a Barney the Dinosaur song.

-I don't need you to tell me I'm a son of a bitch. Been one for a long time. I like it -- the hours are good and there's no heavy lifting. But I'm a son-of-a-bitch whose wife was shot by somebody else.

-If I allowed the police to search the home of every man who owns a gun, hides money from his wife, and doesn't love her anymore, there'd be a line around this courthouse.

-Tweed -- it conceals a multitude of sins.
-Like attempted murder?
-Like spilt gravy. It's fresh, smell.

-I understand you've been promoted from assistant district attorney to supreme deity.

The writing from the early seasons of Law and Order has a great zing to it. The characters, though you know little about their personal lives, have real personalities.

Tonight I'm watching one of my five tapes of the old shows (six one-hour shows per tape). They were, at once, category tapes. One tape for episodes with mobsters, one for episodes with my favorite attorney -- Claire. This week is Claire's week. The episode I'm on is the one where this guy is accused of trying to have his wife killed. He has this crazy wit, but does a great job of making you just hate him. He gets acquitted in this episode. In a couple of years, he does another episode and is accused of killing his second wife...

Speaking of sleazy men...


Decided to grab dinner to go from a posh bar and grill near work with part of a gift certificate my boss gave me.

Go up to the bar to order a pricy little wrap sandwich. Wait for the bartender to look at you, stand near the cash register. The cash register is surrounded by bar stools.

A 45-ish man is sitting in the stool nearest the register with a pint and a meal, watching ESPN on the big screen across the room. His cell phone's on the counter. He's tan. He looks at you as you stand there. You notice and look away fast, because of the code of not acknowledging strangers.

He speaks.

"Have you ever overnighted..."

Suddenly remember a need to be anywhere else just then.

"...a package with EHO from New York to Sioux City?"

Try to shrug off the conversation. No, you haven't. Yes, you're sure they're a terrible service. Wonder what on earth the bartender is doing. Think about eating supper later.

Bartender arrives, seems confused by your order. Scribbles something down and walks away. Does he know by looking at you that you are not adept at ordering things at bars? Does he only like bar-people? Does he like anyone?

Wonder if you're supposed to stand there and wait for the bartender to say anything to you. After a minute of sleazy old man looking your way again, decide you really need something out of your car.

Ten minutes later, you're holding your meal in an unclassy plastic bag, waiting at the register again for bartender to return your gift certificate. Sleazy old man is still there.

"Why don't you take a seat here while you're waiting?" He kicks out the stool a bit.

"Ah, no thanks, I'm on my way out."

Take the gift certificate and run, scaredy cat.