You Are Not Going to Put Catsup on That Steak

 You Are Not Going to Put Catsup on That Steak!

                                           

     This one goes back to Greg's days as a boy enrolled in our dear Pius X High School. Once a Warrior, you are a Warrior for life! We used to speak glowingly of our shared school and Greg loved his experience in the hallowed halls and even in the model schools experiment. Both of us began our time as sophomores since we spent an unhappy year at other places while yearning to be Warriors. Jack had blazed a trail at Pi-High and was a popular kid who made many friends. Greg did much of the same and actually dated an extremely nice young lady named Lynn Noble. Lynn was a sweet and gentle girl who later married a South Gate close friend named Bobby Whitney. Her life was short but she was remembered as a beautiful soul. As most kids at Pius the romance was completely innocent and Greg was a complete gentleman. It was required normal behavior to attend the prom and lucky Greg had Lynn on his arm and lots of friends to accompany him in the traditional activities performed by kids on that special night. Most of these awkward young colts were full of steam and trying as hard as possible to behave like adults and impress the chicks who were already far more emotionally advanced. Greg was always mature for his age and was not the type to put on airs or play the fool with girls. A group of young Warriors and Warriotettes donned rented tuxedos and gowns suitable to the occasion. They chose a fine-dining restaurant probably with advise from sophisticates like a twenty-one year old Jack. Bobcat may advise but I will say it was "the Quiet Cannon" where most of the party had never visited without their parents picking up the tab. Part of the Greg's companion couples on prom night was Tony Tellers who was a fairly nice kid but completely naive. The hesitant gents ordered what they thought were manly entrees and steaks were the preferred choice. When the meat arrived, Tellers, reaching back to his restaurant experience told the snooty French waiter to bring him a bottle of catsup or ketchup. The sophisticated server spoke down his nose at the kid, saying "you are not going to put catsup on that steak" and the wise boy shot back "you bet I am." Greg was embarased for the crass kid but kept silent, that is until he could spill the tea to us the next day where howls or derision filled the air on McNerney.