Lunch With Frank

I leave my office everyday at twelve thirty and I meet a man named Frank at a small Italian lunch place a block away. Frank is a state worker and he's amazingly invested into current affairs. He has an opinion on every mid day news story and he's never afraid to share it with me. He's a single man in his forties, is overweight and gray with an amazing mustache. The man staunchly implanted in his conservative views. Today we sat eating while a story aired about an 80 something year old grandmother being mugged by a 30 year old man.. He muttered "They'll kill him in jail, everyone has a grandmother". "From your lips to gods ears." "Fuck you kid, don't start with me today!" Frank and I don't often agree on much, my cynical views of organized religion, and pretty much anything in general, have often been a point of contention during our lunch break. He knows when I'm trying to get a rise out of him, and rarely plays my games anymore. Its rather unfortunate, I thoroughly enjoyed watching him build up steam while I peppered him with all kinds of bullshit. He would explode in the most fantastic fits of foul language. He swore like Da Vinici painted, it was masterful. I imagine it took many years of hanging around Quincy's dive bars to hone this craft. I admired that in him. Any man who could tolerate me and swear like that is a good man.