I Read it in the Daily News - A Ned's Tale

“That pigeon still coming in here?”

Ned slid a beer into the hands of Craven Danger and smiled.

“You mean Renaldo? Sure. Me and him are old chums. But he’s not here tonight. Why?”

“I got bird crap on my coaster. It’s bad enough you let him in here in the first place, but when he starts cuttin’ loose with the excrement, I say enough!”

“Excrement?” said Ned. “Ain’t we getting fancy with the words.”

“I had to look it up. I read it in the Daily News. Story about a carriage-horse in Central Park who was dropping more than his fair share, and the tourists started complaining about the smell. At least he’s doing his excrementing in the proper place and not on my beer coaster.”

“Tourists ain’t too civil these days,” said Ned.

“Ah, some people wouldn’t know civility if it chewed 'em up and spit out the bones. So, like I was saying, anytime I see a word I don’t know, I hit the dictionary. By the way, who’s the fancy Dan in the bowtie eating pickles at the end of the bar?”

“He’s all right,” said Ned. “Widower who comes in here every Wednesday night after seeing a movie. We were just talking about it before you come in annoying me with your remonstrances.”

“Remonstrances?”

“Yeah. I read the Daily News too. Look it up. Anyway, he just come here from the Loewe’s theater. Tonight's movie was Blondie in the Dough.”

“Ah, geez. Another dopey Dagwood and Blondie Bumstead movie? Don’t tell me, once again Blondie proves what an incompetent schmo her husband is, which causes Dagwood to drag his sorry butt to the kitchen to make himself a mile-high sandwich as he cogitates on how unfair life is for the husband. Hooey!”

“Cogitates?”

“Daily News again.

“Right. Anyways, the bowtie over there? His name is Gus. He was a doorman at the Waldorf, but he don’t work there anymore. He’s retired.”

“Retired? From being a doorman? You call that work? Blowing whistles and hustling aging swells into taxis.”

“I’m a lot of things, pal,” shouted Gus from the end of the bar. “One of which is not being deaf. I was also a good husband who respected his wife enough to know that when she reeled me in for being a schmo, it was because I was being a schmo. Aside from being part doorman, I’m also part human. That always seems to astonish people. And if you ever again try to castigate the virtues of a light-hearted romp featuring the beloved Blondie and Dagwood I will run you through with this pickle fork; which has once again put one over on the dishwasher. When a pickle fork starts outwitting a dishwasher it’s time to rethink humanity. I am not encouraged. Check please.”

As Gus exited Ned’s, Renaldo took advantage of the open door and came in from the cold.

“Castigate?” said Craven. “Don’t know that one. Isn’t that what they do to cats?”

“As good an explanation as any,” said Ned.

“Hey! Why is there bird crap on my hat?”

“I told you before to stop leaving your hat on the bar. It’s incongruous, not to mention messy.”

Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Penny_Singleton_Arthur_Lake_Blon...