The invitation said:
2 all my Frenz …
U R invited to a Kabana Shindig
On the 14th Day of ‘D Month
Expek fuud, buuz, Pizza and gr8t kompani
7PM @ the Den
Chaw!
It was a beautiful day at the beach. I arrived a few minutes early and walked up to a tent with a shingle that said Rich on it. I didn’t have to wait very long. He came out of nowhere and before I stepped in he shook my hands and gave me a warm and welcoming smile. He was dressed in the finest fashion, with sleeked back hair in white linen pants, a white chemise shirt and white leather shoes. “Buonna Noche, Siniore”, he said. And with very thick Italian accent he spoke to me in broken English. “In Californee-ya, no body no se haw to mek a pizza, but for you – I try”
The aura had changed from a sunny beach afternoon to the dithering realm of good and bad. All of a sudden he struck me as a Mafia Don trying to dine an unsuspecting associate before he pumps a couple of bullets in his head. So I was looking for a sign; a validation of a right decision and my safety. My nerves came very close to overwhelming me.
“So Rich, what is this about, what are we celebrating?” I asked. “It iz e misteri that I am try-ing to solv – a veri big puzzel abowt mai fee-lings for my love – Nina”. I em prac-teazing my Italian. I wish to fly her to Roma and ride e Vespa scooter around the city like Audry Hepburn and Greogory Peck in the Roman Holiday. I wish to take her on one grand eh memorable halideey”. It is eh more or less a compe-ling ques-chon that I must answer eh wid a say-ing” “Roma no estate construita en un giorno” which translaytes to “Rome was eh not eh built in eh day”. And though my love for her is not as old as eh Roma, it was not eh built in a day. And like the city of Roma, my feelings for her are e’ternal”. I created eh spesyal drink and pizza combo called da Rich and Nina that eh you must try. I selected only the freshest ingredients and you will agree that eht goes very well together, yes?
Two meticulously dressed waiters brought out a plate from the kitchen behind the tent. On it was a slice of pizza so beautifully prepared accompanied by a concoction that was blue and yellow in color with an umbrella on top. Just as I was about to take a bite, he held down my hand to keep the pizza a few inches from my mouth. He timed it so perfectly that my tongue was already past my lips, hanging in anticipation. Then, he said, “You must eh never partake this creation without eh the right e music – in love, de mood is everything”. With a flip of a remote control, he made the huge speakers adorning the tent come to vibrant life. And all that could be heard was the soft crooning of Dean Martin singing his hit song:
Alas, the mellow music of a time gone by gave me a reassuring feeling. Only then was I convinced that I wasn’t in the company of a Mafiosi but an immensely frustrated wannabe-suitor that is my friend Rich. Fortunately, it seems, he had found an outlet for his frustrations to the great benefit of all food and spirits aficionados around the world.
And so I thought, now, I can relax - enough perhaps to begin my first bite.
