To some people and entities, sixteen dollars seems like an amount that’s perfectly acceptable to charge for a supposedly delicious sandwich. To others, mainly those outside of the Bushwick nexus, it’s an obscene–even thieving–amount. However, when a Missourian father visiting his daughter (another reason why cringe rates are up) ordered a BLT yesterday around brunch, he never dreamed he was going to pay the amount requested.
Reeves Trommatyzed, a 60-year-old retiree who had never vacationed in Bushwick before, was urged by his spawn, Lana Puerile, a 23-year-old sucking her father dry (see: the pervasive Electra complex plaguing most Bushwick socialites), to take her out to Tutu’s–still rumored to be built on an Indian burial ground–the second he arrived at her doorstep on Grattan Street.
Not one for disappointing his daughter, Reeves accompanied her willingly enough and didn’t think too much about prices as she ordered for him, assuring that it would be a “good deal.” For those who drink, maybe, but because Reeves has been in AA for the past twenty years, the mimosa that came along with the baby sandwich was not all that riveting. When Lana mentioned the price point to her father as he was irritatedly biting into the BLT, he choked on it. On the plus side of Tutu’s, most of the staff is trained in the Heimlich (mainly thanks to those artistic renderings of NYC choking victim posters).
Written by Genna Rivieccio