Heard it before, but I heard it again Sunday morning, “Kramer, he’s, he’s enigmatic.”
“Enigmatic? Isn’t that on the menu at IHOP?”
I’ve been called many things, but I don’t recall ever being called an IHOP menu item.
Before scene, breakfast at a local place, a round table of psychics, seers, self-styled “healers,” and assorted hanger-ons. A couple of cops, having breakfast in the same place, not paying us much mind.
After scene, at a steak place, a long table full of psychics, seers, self-styled “healers,” and assorted hanger-ons. A couple of cops having dinner at the booth behind us.
We do eat in all the best places. I’m sure.
Which leads to an interesting after-dinner discussion about – some surprise – musicians and musical tastes – and my fondness for diverse categories.
Unrelated:
Unshaved.
