“When I was nineteen, the summer I did office work for that Boston law firm.” He pushed his plate aside. “I’d like to punch him in the face.”

In an early, much longer version of this story the rich jerk was a young woman, and Frank had an exquisite rejoinder to Have a nice day. He said, I have other plans. In another version, it was an older woman and he demanded to see her boss. Getting even was a mission with Frank; but you never really get even, you just do more damage.

“Anyway, I heard his wife ditched him.” Frank folded his arms, presiding over his strange mounded plate of uneaten food. “Turned out he wasn’t doing his homework. But here’s the kicker. He claimed he stumbled on some stairs and bumped his wang on the newel post. So what does he do? He sues the building’s owners for loss of consortium. Because of the injuries he sustained in his stumble, his wife has been deprived of her”—Frank lifted his hands and clawed air quotes near my face—“husband’s services.” He twisted his swagged face into a smile. “Her comfort and happiness in his so-called society have been impaired by his damaged wang. Hey, I hated the guy but I learned something.”

I wanted to ponder “loss of consortium,” but I had indigestion. I was disgusted by my half-eaten meal, and I was disturbed at the sight of Frank’s uneaten meal, which, scraped and combined, was lumped like garbage.

“Fidge,” Frank said suddenly, shoving his cuff. “Look at the time—gotta go.”

He slid out of the booth, lifted his coat from the hanger, and left in a hurry.

He had not eaten anything. He had not asked me a personal question. He had deflected my questions. To a passerby—such as the waitress who was approaching the booth—his stories were rantings, if not borderline insane. But I knew they contained a meaning.

“Someone wasn’t hungry,” the waitress said.

I thanked her, gave her a bigger tip than she was expecting, and spent the rest of the day reflecting on the lunch—what Frank said, what he didn’t say, his having eaten nothing of what he’d ordered, and I grew melancholy.