My dad called and asked if we wanted to join them for dinner. He was driving and when he picked us up he suggested Charlie’s on Empire Boulevard. The place was packed, four or five deep at the counter. We ordered four fish fries and found a table near a window in the front. I can’t remember who it was, an ex-Rochester person, told us that they had a craving for a fish fry on Friday night and it was impossible to find in whatever city they were living in. Maybe it’s all the Catholics here, that “no meat on Friday” thing, but fish fries are definitely a Rochester (and English) thing.
My mom was telling us she didn’t remember this place. We had had only been here once or twice but I’m pretty sure this was one of my parent’s haunts. I turned to look out the window and there was Brad Fox. I knew he was coming into town for a Mahoney wedding but I certainly never expected o run into him by chance. He was with his brother and just off the plane. Apparently he used to come here with his mom.
We invited him over to our place for a cookout and told him we’d invite a few high school pals, like Steve and John, so we could all catch up. We planned to cook sausage and rode our bikes over to Rubino’s, the citidal, to score. Well, Brad tells us Steve is upset with John for some damn reason so John was exuded and Brad says he “is more of a hamburger kind of a guy.” So we bought some pre-made, ground beef patties, lean, 90/10 and some garlic fennel links. It was a mini meat fest for four. Steve and Brad both had burgers and Peggi I got the good stuff.
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