I looked up from my half empty plate, smiled, and said "Luigi, don't tell my grandmother, but these are the best meatballs I've eaten in my life?"

"I'm glad you like 'em" he replied, and sat down next to me.  "I can tell from your accent that you're not from around here" he said.  I agreed, and said the same thing about him.

"I come to Baltimore by way of Brooklyn, how about you?"

I was taken aback by this, mainly because I too was born and raised in Brooklyn!  It really is a small world.  These days, I travel across the globe, and my fading accent still gives me away to fellow Brookynites.  Deep down, I think I had known Luigi was from Brooklyn before I asked, and I am sure he knew where I was from as well.

He smiled and said "I thought so" when I told him where I grew up.  "So tell me, Johnny, how long have you lived in Baltimore?"

I explained that I did not live in Baltimore.  In fact, I told him, I still lived in Brooklyn, in the very house I grew up in.  My father had recently passed away, and I moved back in to take care of my mother.  In truth, I had never really moved out.  I had graduated from college only weeks before my father's death, and had been in the process of moving back home when it happened.   The plan was to live there and save some money.  I was too embarrassed to admit all of this to my new friend, so I let on that my living at home was an act of kindness rather than necessity.  

Everything else I told Luigi was the truth, how I had graduated and began a career in microfinance, and was doing my damndest to crawl up that great corporate ladder one rung at a time.  I went into dramatic detail about the meetings I had been to here in Baltimore, and in doing so no doubt violated my disclosure contract.  

However, Luigi seemed like such a nice guy, and so innocuous in terms of wishing or being able to negatively affect my burgeoning career.  Plus, that scotch had yet to wear off completely, so my lips were a little loose.

After a barrage of dramatic exclamations and boring explanations on my part, Luigi looked up at me, and said "Johnny, we've only just met, but let me tell you, you seem pretty tightly wound.  Maybe you and I should take a whirl around town here.  Let me show you some of the best places for young guys like us to have fun, and let me introduce you to some of my good friends here in the city.  That way, next time you come to Baltimore, you'll feel more at home, and maybe you can relax a little."

He was right.  I was pretty tightly wound, and I needed a good night out on the town.  And that is what he gave me.  After one of the best nights of partying in my life, I felt priveledged and obligated to consider Luigi Vitrone one of my dearest friends.