Just Call Me Tony

We had just gotten in from Chicago and were pretty beat, but we wandered around Pike Place looking for the fish-throwing guys (never did find them). However, we did find LoPriore Brothers Pasta Bar, and settled in for a really late lunch. The cook/waiter was a real character, so I asked him to pose with our meatball sandwich. He said fine, but since he was in witness protection, I could only refer to him as "Tony". I agreed. Yes, the sandwich was tasty.