One story that is repeated over and over in my family is about my grandfather when he was a young businessman in New York City. At that time and place it was customary for my grandfather, “Pop”, to take his clients out for drinks after work or meet them after dinner. One evening after many drinks, he and a client walked out of a bar drunk and were fooling around. Pop took of the man’s tie and stuffed it into a nearby public mailbox. When his client reached into the door of the mailbox to fish his tie out, his arm got stuck and they had to call the fire department to get him out. While waiting, Pop bought another drink for himself and the man. So at this point the man was enjoying a beer while hunched over the mailbox his arm was stuck in, and Pop hung out beside him carrying on conversation. When the fire department arrived they could not free the man without damaging the mailbox, so the postal service was called to come unlock the box. This story always receives chuckles, no matter how many times my family hears it. The thought of two businessman and firefighters waiting on a New York sidewalk to free the man’s arm and tie is great; and the best part is that Pop was to blame. Then again, everyone deems this story as “typical” of him.