When I was working at Fort Worth Hyatt, there was a pastry chef that came over to help us on a big party. I got to talking to her, and she's telling me about this crazy cook they have in Dallas.
"Fast Eddie we call him" she said.
"Fast Eddie ?" I asked. "This guy doesn't happen to look like a Mexican Kamikaze fighter pilot on a bad batch of crank, does he?"
"Why yes, he DOES!" she says.
"And he's faster than any human could ever possibly be?"
"YES!"
"Is his last name *****?" I say.
"YES!" she says. "How do you know Fast Eddie?"
"Fast Eddie ?" I asked. "This guy doesn't happen to look like a Mexican Kamikaze fighter pilot on a bad batch of crank, does he?"
"Why yes, he DOES!" she says.
"And he's faster than any human could ever possibly be?"
"YES!"
"Is his last name *****?" I say.
"YES!" she says. "How do you know Fast Eddie?"
Man, Eddie and I worked together at Luminarias in 1975 for about 2 years. Sweating our ass during the Friday and Saturday rush, whistling the "Bridge Over The River Kwai" theme to try to take a little pressure off.
So I found Eddie in 1988 working at the Dallas Hyatt.
Fast Eddie. That guy was fast, and crazy weird.
And in 1988 he was just as fast, and crazy weirder than ever.
Is that hilarious or what?
So I found Eddie in 1988 working at the Dallas Hyatt.
Fast Eddie. That guy was fast, and crazy weird.
And in 1988 he was just as fast, and crazy weirder than ever.
Is that hilarious or what?
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