No More Meters for Mushes

This is a photo of Dollar Bill's Last Parking Meter. Bill does not normally do parking meters, but when you come to Big Mama's Neighborhood, you either take a taxi or park at a meter. Plot, Duck, Mush and D-Bill exited the car, emptying their pockets of quarters to fill up the meter, which only gives 6 minutes per quarter, one hour max. But this tariff is to be expected in such an exclusive neighborhood, where the nearest residential hotel is called The Ritz.

Big Mama was waiting on the curb, wearing a powder blue Carolina Panthers football jersey and screaming obscenities at the top of her voice, well, really only one obscenity, the one that sounds like brother and trucker.

Lunch was pretty darned wonderful in Original Joe's, which lounges comfortably in the Lefty O'Doul's late '40s vintage mold, when women wore heels, hats and gloves and seldom a powder blue Carolina Panther's football jersey.

Plot ordered Old School Corned Beef and Cabbage, where the corned beef has a glob of yummy fat in the middle of each piece, the cabbage has been boiled for at least three weeks and the only green presence is the teensy piece of parsley adhering by sheer will to the side of the boiled potato. It came with horseradish and yellow mustard too. "Here ju go," said the waiter, resplendent in a black tuxedo.

Duck had eggplant parmagiana, also old school, where the eggplant has been fried, deep fried, pan fried and then fried again just to be sure, then slathered in tomato sauce and cheese, DANG IT'S GOOD.

Mush and Mr. Mush chose the excellent looking burgers with Steak Fries, but the burgers looked 'way too New School, so we're not including their picture.

If only the story had ended here. But the four friends were having such a good time, staring at the waiters and the neon reflections of the bar sconces and talking about other great restaurants of earlier generations, that they forgot to check their watches.

Which is why the photo above is of Dollar Bill's last parking meter. As Mush was peeling the parking ticket off the windshield, Plot quickly took the picture (coming very close to being squashed flat by a Rescue Wagon). The ticket probably cost as much as the lunch. Plotnik and Ducknik felt awful, but to make it up to Dollar Bill, Plot will have the photo bronzed, no, make that deep fried. No more meters for Mushes.
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Later on, Plottie and Large Pants got birthday cakes from TIAPOS. TIAPOS is nasty with Scorpios. Long ago, The Great Plotnik decided he is the classic Scorpio with Clueless Rising and his moon in Milwaukee.