Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Her daughter was getting a puppy for Christmas so I offered my video camera. Before I handed it over I checked the tapes: there was the raw footage of me telling that joke, some of my niece, some of what Little g shot when she was visiting one day and some business stuff.

I should do more videos, is what I thought.


I got some books, all of which were history, like the history of salt and the cod fish.

"You used to read novels," my youngest sister said. We sometimes call this littlest sister Bookie (because she reads a lot).

"Yeah, but I got tired of caring about the characters."

"And you don't care about real people?"


I do care about real people just not about the real people I read about in books which is slightly odd because I do care about the fake people.


I recognized him. He used to be a regular. He was sitting at a table. He used to normally sit at the bar. He always gave off a weird vibe or at least I thought so.

Later, he moved for the table to the end of the bar where I normally sit. I quietly cursed my friends' decision on where to sit but I wasn't the first to get there so I sat were they sat.

She wasn't in a good mood and it only got worse when he sat close to where she rang up the orders. He was talking to her. She offered no reply. I could hear the conversation but I was watching the interaction, waiting for the moment when a line would be crossed, but she made no visible objections even when he got up and placed his hand on her hip, there wasn't even a hint of her pulling away.

"Hey, do you mind not touching her," Jen yelled over. He didn't acknowledge her. So she said "Take you hand off of her." The waitress just went about ringing up her order.

I waited, half hoping he wouldn't respond, I was pretty certain I could take the guy. I consider both the bartender and the waitress as friends and now it was quite obvious he was causing a problem. At that point in time, the situation had risen to 'being my business'.

But the guy removed his hand and retuned to the bar where he finished his beer and then left.

About an hour and half later I left and then returned with a box of chocolates and two hand dipped strawberries. I handed the box to the bartender and waited for the waitress to come by her station.

"Here. Merry Christmas," I said as I handed her the small bag.

She hugged me hard and said "I only like Jen, you and Danielle. I hate guys like that jerk." I wished I had done more as she still held the embrace. She didn't meet my gaze as she let me go and thanked me as grabbed three pints of cheap beer for table 23 and I was glad she didn't.

My world went quiet and in that stillness of the busy barroom I wished for heroic answers but all I got was silence which followed me out the door and up the street.

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