Winter Is Coming for Whitney

Whitney came to visit last night, but he was woefully unprepared for the cold weather-- he had his work shoes, thin socks, a light jacket, stylish but useless leather gloves, and he actually had to borrow my bomber hat (he refused a Yankees ski hat); this wasn't a problem, however, as we decided to skip the curling and instead meet the usual suspects at Charlie Brown's-- inside-- and, then while we were planning our next move-- to walk to New Brunswick-- Whitney caught a break and Mose gave us a ride to New Brunswick (I got shafted and had to ride in the back seat atop many layers of flattened cardboard boxes), but after a good time in the Corner Tavern and a better time at Giovanelli's (Whitney has learned something since his last visit-- though he ordered two sandwiches, he only ate a half of each one) Mose offered to drive us home-- another break for ill dressed Whitney, but then his luck came to an end and Mose got a flat (this was 2:30 AM and it was cold) and it took a while to wrench the lug nuts loose and an even longer while to get the jack to work and old man winter finally got his revenge on the poorly prepared man from Norfolk.