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"You ought to try nothing but spinach and see what that does for you," I replied.
"You sure look bad, Nort," said Otto.
I reached for my honey bottle. I figured that Norty's blood sugar was probably low. "Open up," I told him, and squeezed a thick golden line of honey onto his tongue.
"Ummmmmmm good," said Norty. He turned and crawled back toward the rear of the bus.
Otto and I looked at each other. "Hypoglycemia," I said.
"Poor guy's got no norms," Otto said.
A little later Otto prodded me out of a light snooze. Mike Konigi, our No. 1 man at 119, stood resplendent before us waiting for an answer to his question.
"Huh?" Mike asked. "Huh, huh, huh, you guys? Am I spiff city or not?"
"Eat a rock, Konigi," Otto replied. Otto, like me, was dressed in the customary denim and flannel.
Mike did look O.K. He was wearing a blue blazer over a white turtleneck and gray slacks. His black, high-topped Converse All-Stars left him a little short of formal footwear, however.