Wrestling Geriatrics

A bit taken aback by Gerald's abrasiveness (though after listening to how he talked to his wife, I shouldn't have been) I nonetheless smiled and said "Forgive me, sir, I meant no offense. I merely overheard these young folks discussing one of their favorite restaurants, and I was actually speaking to them, and not you. However, I also noticed that you and your lovely wife had been speaking of the very same restaurant just a few minutes before. Now, I may not have noticed this coincidence at all, save for the fact that the restaurant the four of you are speaking of, Luigi Vitrone's Pastabilities, happens to also be one of my very favorite restaurants. Furthermore, I happen to be very good friends with Head Chef & Proprietor Luigi Vitrone."

Kristina's eyes lit up. "You know Luigi??" she asked earnestly. "Wow! That is so cool. Mike & I just love that place. We try to get in there at least once a month, and I always try something different. There are so many amazing dishes on the menu, and his specials are always top notch as well."

"Luigi and I go way back," I explained. "I am a couple of years older than him, but our lives have taken a strangely parallel course. "

I looked out the train window as I said this, and as the trees whizzed by, making way for passing smokestacks and highways, I thought back to just how long ago it had been since Luigi and I had first met, and how, despite our incredibly disparate lives, we really had taken strangely parallel paths. I thought back to the innumerable joys and sorrows of the past twenty six years (that is how long we have known each other) and remembered how, whenever I found myself sitting at Luigi's table, the two constants were always amazing food and wonderful, empathetic company. For every story of joy or woe that I could tell, Luigi always had one that, if it wasn't better, was at least as good, and always made me laugh. I smiled to myself, about this, while trying to think of where I could begin in telling these strangers, brought together by some soft, twisted fate, about my good friend Luigi and the years of friendship we had shared.

I could tell that Gerald was completely unimpressed by all of this, but all he could muster was a grumbled "his food is pretty good" since both he and I had noticed the extreme interest his wife Jean had taken in what it was that I was saying. With the ladies enraptured, I continued.