Now we'll relate the story of perhaps an even meaner trick that LG pulled on him, albeit with ample justification.
Before we get to that, however, we'd like to show you a recent photo of Peter in a the Italian city of Sorrento:
We're doing this only to prevent reader sentiment from turning against LG and towards "poor Peter" after you read about this second incident. Look at how smug Peter appears here, cradling his precious dog Bonsai while luxuriating in an expensive Italian hotel room overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Those pants alone must cost at least $3,000 (U.S.)...and that's not counting the batteries!
Now the story: About ten years ago, Peter, a professional colleague of LG's at the time, came to New York on business. He set up dinners on two consecutive nights involving LG. On the first night, he kept LG and another companion waiting for just over an hour at the restaurant. When he finally arrived (he was staying a scant four blocks from the restaurant), he had some flimsy excuse. It was so poor that LG can't even be bothered to remember it at this point.
The next night, when there were 12 participants in the dinner, he was a full 90 minutes late.
The restaurant wouldn't seat anybody until the party was complete, thus, 11 people remained standing in the waiting area until King Peter arrived. LG publicly vowed revenge for Peter's infliction of a second straight day of inexcusable delay. The old adage says that "Revenge is a dish best served cold," but, in this instance, LG was able to deliver it fresh out of the oven, piping hot.
After the dinner plates had been cleared, Peter excused himself to visit the men's room. While he was gone, LG was struck with inspiration. He picked up Peter's desert spoon and, with the handle carefully wrapped in a cloth napkin, held it an inch or so above the flame of a lit candle. This is not an actual photo from that night, it's a forensic re-creation, and we caution readers not to try this at home:
LG held that spoon above the flame until it was white hot; you could almost see through the metal. Just when LG saw Peter approaching from across the restaurant, he put the spoon down at Peter's place setting and told everyone else at the table to follow his lead.
Seconds after Peter sat down, LG said "OK, we're going to play a game. Everyone hold up your spoon." With that, LG gripped his spoon in front of his face.
With all eyes on him, Peter grabbed his spoon and held it in roughly the same position that LG was holding his. But for some reason, Peter was not crying out in pain. He did not throw his spoon to the ground, screaming. All appeared to be fine.
LG quickly realized that the spoon's handle must've been far enough away from the white-hot tip of the spoon that it was not hot at all. Before LG could think of the next move, his buddy Rudy, who worked with LG and was sitting directly across from Peter at this large round table, yelled "OK, now everyone...touch your nose with your spoon!"
Peter complied with this directive and, instantly, he let out a blood curdling scream, as if someone had stabbed him in the shoulder blade.
Assist to Rudy.
Every patron and employee in the packed restaurant turned to look at Peter. Our waiter quickly scurried over to find out what was wrong.
"Oh nothing, nothing," we all reassured him, while Peter gripped his nose and groped for the ice cubes in his water glass.
"There, we're even now," LG told Peter. "You kept me waiting for two-and-a-half hours in the last two nights, now we're all square."
But the jocularity didn't end there. The next day, when Peter showed up at the New York office for meetings, everyone he saw inquired as to the origin of the red blister on the tip of his nose. It lasted for a few days.
Luckily, Peter is a good sport, and today he's the owner of a highly successful art and antiques dealer, BG Galleries, so he has no time to be bitter over a good ole practical joke from days gone by.
But he is, we're told, far more punctual for business dinners these days...
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