The Mad Greek Diner Man

I watched the movie "Rounders" this evening. It's one of those movies that I can watch again and again and I don't know why. Anyway, it's set in New York. One scene depicts a card game in a Greek Diner in NYC. One Greek Diner guy says to another:

F$@# meeee? F#@ Ayoooou! (pardon the language)

This reminded me of a story from right after I moved to New York. The story includes blue language (which is inferred, not written). So if blue language offends you, please stop here.

When I moved to New York, I didn't have a job. I initially had considerable free time on my hands in Astoria, Queens. Astoria is traditionally known as a Greek neighborhood. There are Greek Delis, Greek Supermarkets, and a lot of Greek People sauntering about, gesticulating, sipping coffee and yelling at each other (for them, it's just talking).

Which brings me to George. George was the Greek owner of a Greek Diner on my block. Since I was unemployed, I went to George's Diner every day for a Greek Salad with extra anchovies. When you walked through the door of George's Deli, you were now in George Land, where George was King. George talked to everybody. George always talked (yelled). George never took any flack from anyone. In fact, whenever a customer would event hint of giving him a hard time, George would make a scene, yelling like a crazy man with dramatic hand gestures. There was only one law in this Diner: be respectful to George or George will silence you by causing a scene and threatening life banishment from his diner. Of course, every time this would happen, I would put down my paper, fixate my eyes on the scene and pray that I would not collapse in laughter. I liked George.

For example, the breakfast special ended at 11:00 am. If you ordered the special at 11:01 a.m., George would respond with disdain, shock and fury. On one particular Sunday, and elderly man (George didn't discriminate) demanded the breakfast special after 11 am. After the elderly man continued to pester him, George proceeded to do the following: He bean to unbuckle his pants and while doing so, said:

Shoooda I pull down my pants for you too?? What else do you want from me? Shoulda Eye take down my pants????

When I frequented the Deli, I often wore a black windbreaker-type jacket , so George thought I was some type of law enforcement man.

George: Ayy, where u frawm.

Me: Washington, DC.

George: U a cop? You gotta thatta blacka jacket. You looga lika cop. You CIA?

Me: No, not a cop. I am actually looking for a job.

George (sarcastically): Suuure yoo are a Mister Washingdun Dee Cee. Mr. CIA. Washoo want, Mr. Washingdun Deee Cee CIA.

Me: I'm not a cop. I'll have a Greek Salad with extra anchovies.

George: Yu got it, Mr. Washingdun Dee Cee CIA FBI. (wink wink wink).

Every time I walked in his Diner from then on, George would greet me by yelling: Heeeeey, Mister Washingdun Dee CIA Man! There was no problem with this but since he yelled it out, whoever was in ear shot would drop what they were doing and look straight at me. Earshot for George covered the whole diner and probably the hospital rooms across the street.

One day, there was a "mentally unstable" lady seated at the counter while I was at a table, eating a Greek Salad with extra anchovies. This lady was textbook: long gray hair, mangy clothes and surrounded by bags. She was chattering on at George. As went on, she became abusive. She began to yell and the volume of her voice began to rise. George maintained his composure:

George: Yes Janice. Okay Janice. No problem. I am trying to help you, Janice.

I began to feel a little bad for George and resentful of the lady. After what happened next, I was quickly reminded where I was: George Land.

After a long sentence of senseless yelling, the lady made a big mistake.

Lady in squeaky crazy lady voice: F$@$# yooou.

(Mee: newspaper slowly lowering down revealing my surprised eyes, thinking: Ohhhhh noooo.)

George, turns around and yells: F#@#$ Meeeeeeeeeeee??????? F#$@@ Yoooooooooou!!!!!

Even the crazy lady knew she made a big mistake because she immediately began to yell out:

Am Sorry! An Sorry! I won't do it again! I sweaaar!

Too late. George dramatically banished her from his domain. After she was gone, George proceeded to tell me her life story with considerable empathy. He didn't feel good about what what had just occurred. Though he may have been gruff, George was a good man. If it weren't for the foul language, I think it may have turned out differently. Knowing George, I wouldn't be surprised if he let her back in sometime later.

The best part about this story occurred about two weeks later. I was in the Diner with my friend Luke. In front of George, I retold the story. As I told the story, I began to impersonate the banished lady in her squeaky voice with the "Eff U" included. I then reached down into a deep place within myself, and performed, word for word, my best impersonation of George, in front of George, gesticulations included:

fff@%%$ Meeee? F%#$$ Yoooou!


For the next five minutes, George proceed to laugh as hard as anyone I have ever seen laugh in my life, tears included.

Okay Mister Washingdun Dee Cee, Maybe you are nodda cop.