Leave it to Lawrence
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     T-- and I grabbed dinner at Poppy’s last night. Three guys sat across from us at the bar, and Loretta was behind it. It was good to see her again.

     The guys were middle-aged, and wearing untucked button-downs. Two had great, flowing hair, and one wore a ball cap. They didn’t take their eyes off the television, and none of them said a word. If I didn’t catch them sipping their beers, I might’ve thought I was in a wax museum.

     Not that I’ve ever been in a wax museum. I just like the comparison. I’m afraid, though, it’s going to die like “Eddie Haskell.” I used that one at work the other day. We have a new guy at the office, and he says all the right things to the bosses. They love him, b...

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