There's Joe's Head

Lee Garner Jr., that putz

All season long, I've been waiting for a glimpse of my neighbor Joe, moonlighting as a waiter on "Mad Men."  Pre-season, I was dying for info.  Dying, I tell ya! I nagged.  I pleaded.  I whined.  I got nowhere with Joe.  "Oh, please tell me, Joe.  Please!  Give me something to live for."  But Joe is a man of principle.  He threw me a few crumbs, nothing more. "Oh, alright.  Calm down.  It's a restaurant scene.  It's only two cast members and they're having a very serious discussion."  Now we were getting somewhere.
"Is it Don and Betty?"  "I'm not telling you."  "It's Don and Betty.  I knew it!  They're getting back together, right?"  "You're wasting my time."  "Roger and Joan.  They're getting back together!"  "What part of I'm not telling you sh*t aren't you getting?"  "You are mean, you are cruel.  I hate you," I said, on the verge of a Sally-sized tantrum.  "You're entitled to your opinion."  "I'm a hater."  "Fine.  Be that way."  His face scrunched up.  He started crying right there on the sidewalk.  I tried another approach.  "I'll mow your lawn for the next year if you just tell me who's in the goddamn scene.  Give me a name.  Give me two names."  "Not happening." "Give me initials, Joe-Joe.  A few letters.  Is that too much to ask for?" "What do you think?"

Give me 30 days!

Last night on "Mad Men," for a split-second, a flash of gray hair zoomed in and out, as my tight-lipped neighbor Joe, aka The Waiter, put the bill down, in front of Roger and that hateful Lee Garner Jr., the Lucky Strike guy who hit on Sol, the art director, a few seasons back, and got him fired.  When Mr. Lucky Strike said he'd pay for lunch, Roger knew it could only mean one thing:  they were pulling the account after 30 years.  Big news, indeed.  Could mean the end of the reincarnated agency.  Or not.  Either way, was it worth waiting for? Oh, hell yes.  Not that I plan to tell Joe.  I wouldn't want it to go to his head.