So many evenings in the early 80s I made my way along Bennett Avenue, past Yeshiva Samson Raphael Hirsch (familiarly known for some reason as “Breuer’s,” with D. Lehman a proud alum) to 181st Street and the Hilltop Restaurant, pictured above.
I must digress for a moment. I once watched a television interview of former Chicago Bears player and coach Abe Gibron. The question was asked, “What makes a great restaurant?” and I will always remember Coach Gibron’s reply.
He said, “A great restaurant is a place where they take care of you. I call them up and say, ‘I’m coming over. I like to eat and I’m not afraid to pay for it.’ When I get there, they’ve cooked a goat.” Excellent advice! Try it yourself. Just be sure to use Coach Gibron’s exact words: “I’m coming over. I like to eat and I’m not afraid to pay for it.”
For me, however, a great restaurant is a place of wonderful memories. That’s why I feel so strongly about the Hilltop. The food was certainly good, although not exceptional. I always ordered either the soup of the day, spaghetti with meat sauce, or the chicken club sandwich. But it was the conversation that really made an impression. Sometimes the whole restaurant would take part, as when the following joke was passed around:
One night a flying saucer landed in front of a farm house. The farmer and his wife came out and were greeted by two space aliens. The aliens asked if the farmer and his wife would like to have sex, and they agreed.
While fucking the wife, the first alien asked if she would like his penis to be longer. When she said she would like that, he told her to pull on his left ear. Then he asked if she would like his penis to be thicker. When she said she would like that, he told her to pull on his right ear.
Later, when the flying saucer had departed, the farmer asked his wife how she had liked having sex with the space alien. She said, “It was great! How was it for you?” The farmer replied, “It was okay, but she kept pulling on my ears.”
Another memorable conversation at the Hilltop Restaurant was a discussion of whether New York was the greatest city in the world. The consensus: No, but it used to be.
Finally, there was the time I overheard an angry argument between two young men about an age old question: “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” The argument went something like this: “The chicken came first because you can’t have an egg without a chicken!” “No, the egg came first because you can’t have a chicken without an egg!” “Chicken!” “Egg!” “Chicken!” “Egg!” “Listen fuckface, the chicken came first because in the Bible it says God made the chicken! It don’t say He made the egg! So shut the fuck up!”
from the archive; first posted June 4, 2008
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Author: The Best American Poetry
