So, I walk into the pre-fast overcrowded glatt kosher appetizing store and Sam still be there cutting lox. On the wall, an early portrait of him, shot by me, hanging on the wall behind his station. He greets me. Smiles. “Best Lox cutter in South Florida,” I say. When I pickup my camera, some elder jewish slut asks, “…, did you ask first?” Max, remembering me coming in after I was released from the hospital two years ago and weighed 40 pounds less, leaves his post and says, “…, you look great. Nice to see you again.” Then he points to the wall and says to the salivating crowd, “…, he took that!” So much for the slut who utters, …, nice photo.
