Deadbeat neighbor: “So, did you have a happy Memorial Day? I noticed you had the grill going…”

Me: “I grilled some all-beef hotdogs, yes. But Memorial Day is not — “

Deadbeat neighbor: ” — grilled some ribs, myself. Rubbed ’em down with a special blend of spices and let ’em sit overnight, then charred the hell out of ’em. Crispy outside, juicy as a ripe peach inside.”

Me: ” — yeah, I smelled the gasoline. But what I was saying is that you don’t ask someone if he’s had a happy –“

Deadbeat neighbor: ” — I know, I should probably use lighterfluid or some such. But gasoline really gives you that quick char, y’know? And that’s what really makes the ribs — though it’s hell on the cobbed corn, I’ll admit.”

Me: “Are you finished?”

Deadbeat neighbor: “Well, no, I have a rack or two leftover — and a boatload of macaroni salad. Because nobody ever eats that stuff. It’s almost like food bunting or something.”

Me: “Y’know, I was about to call you an idiot and lecture you on American history, but that’s not a bad line, ‘food bunting.'”