| Somebody told me a cute story once which might even be true. One of the most ancient & wonderful restaurants in Mississippi is called Lusco's & is in Greenwood in an old brick commercial building. There is not, and never has been, a menu & each table is in a high cubicle with walls about 7 feet high with a curtain at the door for privacy--The same few invariable entres are announced by an austere Negro major domo with the hauteur of the Grand Vizier of Pharaoh. If you are permitted admittance, pompano swimming in garlicky lemon butter & onion rings of the Gods is what you want. You bring your liquor in a brown paper bag &, if you have to ask the price, you don't need to be there. Anyhow, once there was this wild Delta boy (and keep in mind that, even by Mississippi standards, which are already kicked up a notch (as Emeril says), all Delta boys are wilder & more hell-raising than anybody in the world) & this Delta girl (a concept impossible to put into words) had been going with him & felt he had done her wrong. She was at Lusco's with a bunch of other Delta girls (terrible as an army with banners) & was telling them in detail what a perfect shit he was. Unbeknownst to her, he was in the next cubicle & listening to every word. Of course, he did the only thing a self-respecting Delta boy could do--he took off all his clothes--every stitch--& climbed up over the cubicle & jumped down on the middle of the Delta girls' table, scattering them like a covey of quail!! Oh what a man!! You see, in Mississippi, we always like to see our men do the right thing... |
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