Gee, all along I thought I had a pretty everyday part, up there on the left side of my head. It wasn't until later that I noticed that Al Primo didn't have any part at all.
Since we didn't have much else to discuss and since he admitted to being hungry, he went through with our bargain, took his feet off the desk and took me to lunch. "Al," I said, when the conversation began to drag, "I'm interested in this funny-looking business. Perhaps you could explain. I mean, besides the part."
"Well, you dress funny too," he said, trying to be helpful. "I mean, that shirt. The blue shirt. That's a large part of it."
Actually the shirt wasn't blue, it was turquoise, but I didn't split hairs. I began looking at Al Primo. We both had suits on, both solid color with maybe a little herringbone that seemed to be cut from the same mold. Al Primo had a polka-dot shirt with a solid tie; I had a solid shirt with a polka-dot tie. Is that where I went astray? He had on Gucci loafers; I had on patent leather Italian boots. To my naked eye I wasn't a whole lot differently dressed than he was.
Mercifully for my morale, though, we stayed on the subject of fashions and I soon found out that Al Primo thought just about everyone dressed funny. This, you see, is why everyone on Eyewitness News has to wear blazers. They can't be trusted to pick their own clothes. (Or their own minds.) "Do you know what Grimsby will show up in sometimes?" he asked, nearly incredulously. Grimsby is Roger Grimsby, the anchorman who carries Eyewitness News on his smirk.
"No," I said.
"Brown," Al Primo said, hissing it in a stage whisper.
"No," I said.
"Uh huh. And Tex. He's liable to wear a checked coat or an orange lie."
I shook my head in dismay. "Of course," I ventured, "maybe it would be fun some time to see these fellows in their own clothes."