I’ve been travelling. More on that later. Before I left, however, I managed to catch the Yankees in a 2-1 victory over Oakland. Great game. Low-scoring fast-moving pitchers’ duel. Oakland’s second-baseman tried to fake a throw to first and wound up looking like a minor-leaguer to the uninformed.
Didn't hurt that I was, for the first time in my life, watching from a luxury box with an Army colonel and a professional opera singer, among others. As the opera singer’s brother said: “It's like having the world’s greatest hi-def television.” Plus Italian sausage and all the beer you could drink.
After all that luxury, we hadda go get some pizza (and more beer) over on 157th Street. And what did we see?
The sign below the green Presidente neon logo reads, literally, “Proper-looking young women needed to work.”
The usual figurative reading of “proper-looking,” however, isn’t “proper-looking.” It’s “white.” Or at the very least, “white enough for the person doing the hiring.”
I must be missing a joke. Right? This is the 21st century.
At least there’s a “For Sale” sign on the door.





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