This profound evening will certainly go down as one of the best nights ever. Brilliant night ride. EBMB down the corridor of 74th, 76th, 77th . I go early looping to peak in at Buckley’s – hole with beat up old table. We arrive at Foster Gardens to play the ” Rio Grande”. After a swift kick by the Snip, Zulu arrives and cracks back from more than a few down for victory. Kong shakes the flu haze and arrives. Bar keep does her best aging stripper. Wheel chair cowboy arrives through the road entrance announcing a few crazies in tow. Then, they arrive, led in years and personality by Audrey, the 75 year old, gin-soaked cig-choked shuffleboard queen. The maven with a voice like a raven. “Hah!” “No one plays Audrey except Uncle Frank” “Leave me out of this!” Audrey’s getting serious now. “This is my game” “We thought it was our game” “Think again” “Any table, anytime, anywhere” Cheers. Bow to the legend. Off the Slingshot. Picnic. Look, it’s bearded Bravenheart! SS hopping on Tuesday? Young people. One round and then … SA says Vendetta. Brilliant long ride. All downhill from here. “The best thing about riding to Vendetta is the ride to the Nest after!” No cars on Tuesday at midnight. The sublime Vendetta table is simply “The Eagle”. Last call! To the Nest. Back to Vendetta to get my bag. Back to the Nest. Order from the dog window: 2 Chilis and 2 Germans. Chicago = Celery salt and mustard. Crap it’s late. Fists for the North 100s at 47th. Double back for the Bitchslap. Portage over Hollywood. Try to keep up with the skinny tires of the Spaniel. 52nd out past the Jesus Barn and home. Asleep by 3.