by J J Cohen
Yesterday the Cohen family met Eileen, Anna K. and her daughter, and Eileen's sister's partner and their triple progeny at Comet Ping Pong. I love this pizza restaurant/bar/ping pong parlor because ... well, where else do you find all three of those together?
As the list of attendees demonstrates, many present were in the age range of 5-12 (and all present acted as if they belonged within this range).
I note the presence of innocent minors because I want to record here publicly that:
- Eileen repeatedly used her ping pong ball as a deadly missile, several times aiming the projectile with great force against me
- When the meal of pizza was over and many abandoned crusts littered the kiddies' plates, Eileen gathered these fire-singed pieces of bread, wrapped them in a napkin, and placed them in her purse. She announced to all that she keeps them for riding the subway. If a crowded train should yield no possibility of sitting (she told the children), she tosses a crust into the middle of the aisle. As everyone scrambles to grab the thing, she quietly takes an empty seat.
- Claiming she got the idea from a New Yorker cartoon, Eileen initiated a game in which we tried to name more than 100 ways to kill a person with a lemon. Favorites: bouncing the lemon off someone's head repeatedly; stuffing the seeds into all airholes to trigger suffocation; squeezing the juice into someone's eyes to blind them, removing and drying out the rind, and then stabbing that blind person a week later when the rind has hardened enough to use as a shank.
If you take your shirt off and someone hits a ping pong ball at you really hard, it makes a cool little red ring, and if the shot was smoking, you might even get a little red bull's eye in the middle of the ring. I take the 5th as to why I know this to be true, but I know this to be true.
I want to point out here that letting a lemon rind harden until it could be used as a shank was Wendy Cohen's idea [Jeffrey's WIFE--please note: not a CHILD], and that, at first, she kept saying "lemon shunt," and then realized, "no, SHANK." Well, so much for Wendy's street cred.
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