We were sitting in a booth at our favorite haunt.
Dewey’s.
On the table between us in this momentarily empty eatery were cups of coffee and big slices of pie in front of each of us. I preferred coconut cream pie. Frank went for a double chocolate fudge French thing. Sitting in the booth, staring out the window to my left, the big plate glass window gave us a wonderful view of a semi-deserted parking lot disappearing under a rising sea of falling rain. Three cars were out there firmly anchored to the asphalt. For now. But glancing at the hulking Shelby GT 500 we were still driving I began to wonder. Dewey’s was down by the river. Water from the city above flowed this way. If it kept raining as hard as it was the river was bound to come over its banks.
Brother.
Put that nuisance on the “
