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Luigi, Who Take a Care of This?
At a Christmas party years ago I told this story and almost fell off my barstool. Christmas parties were like that at our place.
I started: "Luigi lived by the sea in old Sicily. He was a fishmonger. One morning at breakfast Mama rakes him over the coals good. He stomps out of the house and goes to his boat.” I started pretending to row franticly. “Mama comes out on the back stoop and pleads. ‘Luigi! Luigi where you go?’
I turned at the waist and pointed with my hand over my shoulder.
‘Woman, I’m a leaving.’ I started rowing again.
‘Luigi! Luigi, who take a care of the fish market?’
I turned at the waist and pointed with my hand over my shoulder.
‘You take a care of it.’ I started rowing again.
‘Luigi! Luigi, who’ll take a care of bambino?’
I made a similar turning and pointing motion.
‘You take a care of it.’ I started rowing.
She lifts the hem of her dress and points.
‘Luigi, who take a care of this?’
I started rowing faster and turning on my barstool coming quite close to falling on my face.
‘Woman, so help me one of these days I’m a leaving.’
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Red beans and ricely,
stonewallja
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