I was waiting to be seated at one of Washington, D.C.’s finer dining establishments the other day when John Kerry shouldered his way through to the front of the line. Rudeness like this tends to rub me the wrong way, so I stood my ground and refused to let him by. Somewhat taken aback by my refusal to let him pull rank on me, he looked down his Gallic nose and tried pulling out his favorite card:
“Do you know who I am?“
I was ready with a comeback that came straight from the Master.
“Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.”
Kerry frowned, and sniffed at his sleeve just to make sure that he was not exuding any fishy aromas.
“I’m not a fishmonger!”
“Then I would you were so honest a man.”
At that moment the maître d’ waved to me, so I took my leave of Senator Kerry and sat down to enjoy an excellent meal.
