Seriously. Earlier this morning I walked into Buzzbrews on Lemmon and as I approached the table where sat one Harvey Gough, he reeled his hand back and threw a frozen steak at me. AGAIN.
It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in a cargo container on an isolated Air Force base in Uzbekistan with an ice pack on my eye after Harvey had hit me in the face with a frozen sirloin. In case you missed the escape, it’s all here in black, white, and red.
Anywhoo, Harvey and I never kissed, but we made up. He’s now happily married and has a gorgeous 4-year old daughter who looks just like her mother. Besides our trip in late 2002, Harvey has taken many missions overseas to feed the troops.
Harvey and I met today to discuss another (im)possible mission. I’m sure it will never happen, but it’s always fun to listen to “Harvey Stories.” I know, you either love him or hate him—the stories of his abuse to customers at his Goff’s Hamburger store are almost (he wishes) legendary. But he has some tales that, if published, would be a best seller. (Oh, let’s cast the movie!) I can’t tell you all of the things going on with Harvey—he’s got a few irons in the fire. But stay tuned. There will be news. Hey Harvey, DUCK!