I remember sitting around a table with a few of my friends who were also restaurant owners, cracking jokes about each other’s places.
“Vinnie’s place is so old, he just gave the monks he uses to copy the menus a five cent raise.”
“Benny’s so cheap, he won’t pay to buy new stone tablets to chisel new menus on… he makes them hammer in the changes on the back.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I hear Artie over there’s such a tightwad, he won’t pay to paint the cave he’s in.”
I just laughed, and wondered when my chef would discover fire.