“Put in new lights, hang’m up, will be all right.”
“You’re the boss.” “What’s a matter with it?”
“Well, it’s out of date. Nobody has bulb signs any more. They got Neon signs. They show up better, and they don’t burn as much juice. Then, what does it say? Twin Oaks, that’s all. The Tavern part, it’s not in lights. Well, Twin Oaks don’t make me hungry. It don’t make me want to stop and get something to eat. It’s costing you money, that sign, only you don’t know it.”
“Fix’m up, will be hokay.”
“Why don’t you get a new sign?”
“I’m busy.”
But pretty soon he was back, with a piece of paper. He had drew a new sign for himself, and colored it up with red, white, and blue crayon. It said Twin Oaks Tavern, and Eat, and Bar-B-Q, and Sanitary Rest Rooms, and N. Papadakis, Prop.
“Swell. That’ll knock them for a loop.”
I fixed up the words, so they were spelled right, and he put some more curlycues on the letters.
“Nick, why do we hang up the old sign at all? Why don’t you go to the city today and get this new sign made? It’s a beauty, believe me it is. And it’s important. A place is no better than it’s sign, is it?”