There Goes The Neighborhood

So picture this:

My brother Jimmy and I went to Florida, but before we hit the airport we stopped at Santarpio's for a little dinner since the airlines don't serve their sh*tty food anymore.

We were there with Jimmy's wife and his two boys, and we all squeezed into a booth with Jimmy's wife and two boys sitting across from us.

After a little food and a few beers we sat and talked in the crowded restaurant, when nature called on Jimmy's kids.

His wife Patty grabbed the two kids and brought them to the rest room. While Jimmy and I were sitting there, I noticed the last lonely slice that was sitting there in the traces of oil and corn meal.

I started kidding around trying to get Jimmy to eat the last slice and started to hold it near his face saying, "C'mon...you know you want it."

Just then two older Eastie vets walked by on their way out and looked at us with disgust.

That's when I realized that we were sitting on the same side of an otherwise empty booth.