Before Louie’s flight back to Burlington, he took me to lunch, and as soon as I sat down in the booth of the barbecue joint, I grimaced when I heard the music on the sound system. It was Dec. 27th.
“They’re still playing Christmas carols?”
“Louie, I hate Christmas music. Except for the Snoopy songs. Make them change it.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his arm. “No!”
We split the brisket nachos, and as I ate them, I felt the grease and cheese and shredded beef fall on my chin and onto my plate.
“Jesus, Lissy, I can't take you anywhere.”
“You never could.”
When I dropped Louie off at Pittsburgh International Airport for his flight back to Vermont, he...
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