Breakfast at Little Italy

So, we walk to a place next door for breakfast at about 11:30 am. The name of this establishment is Little Italy. I hear all the old "war stories" about this and other places along the way, which supposedly helped pass the time for the 18 hours we were all in the truck. Our second in command, Lieutenant Bouwma as he prefers to be called, is so exhausted from lack of sleep and comfort in the spacious back seat of our vehicle that he automatically adds cream to his ice water and takes a big swig of his coffee. The mahi sandwich was really good, but I overheard the mayor of the town saying how bad the fries suck!