tell them you're dave fennario

I tell Liz I want to go uptown on Xmas Eve to take notes on xmas past and present but probably should go on my own because I just want to sit somewhere for a couple hours in some place like the Hotel Queen Elizabeth lobby
We can’t as usual co-ordinate anything and as usual getting in each other’s way on what’s happening or suppose to be happening while escorting me,a take out Second Cup coffee precariously balanced on my walker seat,into the Queen Elizabeth lobby where we’re definitely being checked out by the staff cause we sure don’t look like we got American Express cards.
Liz straightens out the cuffs on my jeans and then after a kiss on the cheek says-she kills me-she says
“If they come over to throw you out,tell them you’re Dave Fennario and you’re taking notes”