BLOOMFIELD, N.J. -- The waiter took three hot, steaming trays from the flat top of the Dutch door and maneuvered his way to the bar. "He's new here?" I asked.
"No," my fiancée said, he wasn't new, that she remembered him. We had been here at the Town Pub about a hundred times before we got engaged outside in the parking lot - and a hundred times since.
The young man had dark hair, a thick neck and his muscles bulged like Harvey Lembeck's cronies. I wondered aloud if he was a weight lifter or a football player.
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