In the '80s I was cooking in this bistro. There was a guy that drove a Jaguar. He would check to see if I was cooking and then order a piece of broccoli ala carte. That is all. Apparently I was the only one that could cook broccoli. Then he would walk back into the kitchen and tip me $20. For a piece of broccoli. I am still trying to see the world through his eyes but I can not.
God thinks it's fun to confuse primates. Larsen's God!