We were on the way out the door of Nick’s Sea Breeze Inn when my father asked, “Where else would you see a bench like this?” We have seen it used when the waiting room is full but not in the dead of winter. My mom ordered her usual spaghetti and meatballs, my dad went with the broiled Haddock and Peggi and I each order the “Italian Trio” special (choice of three: Manicotti, Gnocchi, Lasagna, Chicken Parm or Eggplant Parm) with a salad.
Nick stopped by our table as he always does. My dad used to meet here once a week for lunch with his retired engineers’ posse and Nick and my dad have some sort of rapport. Even though Nick played football for Geneva High School he said he wouldn’t be watching the Super Bowl. “Bunch of babies. That’s not football. That’s a circus.”
He inserted the story of how he shined shoes at the Naval base on Seneca Lake and brought the money home to his mom and then how he dragged blocks of ice upstairs at Club 86 and chipped them by hand to stock the bar before Jimmy Dorsey or whoever took the stage. He worked his way back to a football analogy. “Those guys make one small play and then cut to a commercial. I go in the back room here, he said, and the dishwasher will say ‘I’m on break’.” Nick looked at his watch to illustrate. “I have two more minutes! In my day they would tell you your hours are 9 to ‘u’, nine AM to unconscious.
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