by John Brooke
lord, is that you Al? Tom Huff shouted
across the railroad car as the train clicked
clacked away from Manhattan.
hell is. Whats up, you look a bit peaked.
Sit here Tom.
over to Al. Hey, old buddy, dont get
up. they shook hands and Tom sat down.
Meeting you on a train like this reminds me
of old times.
seems it was only yesterday
was a thousand yesterdays!
we had some wild high times rolling in the dough,
trading. Heck, dont you miss your end of
the year bonus!
when we used to say have your girl call my
girl and well do lunch.
Now my girls a call girl, and I lunch in a
always were the lucky one!
whistle roused them from their reveries as it
slowed to a stop. Al stood up in his filthy
patched Savile Row tailored suit. It matched
Toms former Wall Street attire perfectly
This is where I get off.
He slid the
boxcar door open. Jumping down he yelled up to
Tom. Have your call girl, call my call girl,
they can afford to do lunch!