I had a post. I actually wrote two but I was probably only going to post one but anyway I forgot to email them to myself so I don't have access to them so I'll post something different.

I was having lunch is an open public space and I noticed an unattended duffle bag. The bag was left on a concrete bench next to a Federal building. I was going to tell someone I know in security about it but I figured someone had just forgotten it. I didn't want to be the one to tell my friend about an unattended bag and have him fill out all this paper work if someone just forgot their gym bag. So, my plan was to wait until I had to go back from lunch and hope that the person that left the bag would realize it and come back.

I ate lunch and still had forty five minutes left so I started reading my book. It's a good book so far but in one scene the author states that the guy twisted off the cap of a Heineken and you don't have to be a booze bag like myself to know that Heinekens don't have twist off tops. Anyway, while reading the authorities came by with a bomb sniffing dog and the dog couldn't have cared less about the bag.

And some attractive lady, that looked a little uptight, gave me a dismissive look for taking a photo of a broken concrete bench. I would have said something to her but I was hoping to keep my options open.


…

So, I was at the bar with a friend, the same friend that will meet me at the same bar the next day which is Friday. He tells me that he would like to know what the lunch specials are because if the specials are grand he will have lunch elsewhere and meet up for beers later.

I tell him that specials are set the day of and that the bartenders wouldn't know what the specials are but that if he were to ask that I bet they would be pissed off. He agreed with my assessment so he didn't ask but it got me to thinking that it would be funny to ask. What type of idiot asks what the next day's specials are?

I asked. I said I needed to plan my day around the specials. I, of course, was berated and told that if I wanted to know then I would have to come in tomorrow. I found the reaction kind of funny. I got the reaction I thought I would get but then a little later after my friend left the bartender came over to me and told me, very sweetly, that she would know the specials at eleven o'clock in the morning and that I could call. I was actually a little touched that she told me, so I had to come clean.

I leaned a little towards her and said "Don't bring it up but Paul is the one that wanted to know the specials. I was just being a goofball and asked. I know you don't know until that day of."

"He's going to get it tomorrow."

The file naming system is stupid. I didn't call it stupid. I called it crazy. I said it hurt my eyes. I said it's not intuitive.

I want to take a few days off but I'm afraid that being away from work isn't going to fix my funk. Everywhere I go, there I am.

...

So I was in this email conversation with a former intern. Among other things she was letting me know that she realized that she knew another intern that knew me and that second intern had said some nice things about me.

I replied that a bunch of people say nice things about me and for proof all she would have to do is walk into *my favorite bar* and mention my name.

She replied: "I'm glad to know that a bunch of rum-mies and wine-os say nice things about you"

I thought it was funny.


...

He said I was passive aggressive. I disagreed and then let the air out of one of his tires.

room twelve

We were sitting in room number twelve of the emergency room. Room number twelve has just a bed and a chair in it. It's the psych room. She had some chest pains and room twelve was the only available but I teased her about it anyway. I was there just to pick her up but she hadn't been discharged by the hospital.

We kept the door closed as we talked and waited. With the door closed the hospital staff would always knock before they entered. I don't know why but I never said come in or anything; I just sat quite just like she did after all it was her room I figured it wasn't my place to say anything, I was following her lead.

After her negative test results came back she was free to go. I sat as she got dressed.

"Don't look" she said as she slipped out of the gown after she had turned away from me.

I said "Alright" as I lowered my eyes to the floor and then raised them and watched her clasped her bar in front of her. She has a lovely back. I lowered my eyes before she had spun the bra around.

She turned to face me and said "This is my best bra. You can look now. It lifts and separates." She gave a slight demonstration and told me she got it from Victoria's Secret before she pulled her white sweater over her head.

Outside the hospital, at the entrance to the train station, she told me where she parked and that I should just catch the subway, and that she didn't need me to walk her to her car which was parked a block away.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes. I'll be okay."

I wasn't pleased with her answer. I wanted to drive her to her house and I would worry about getting to my house from there but she didn't want me to. I looked her in the eye so she would see my concern.

"I'll be okay. Really" she said which still didn't please me but I knew the discussion was over.

She called me later. She was at home, I was at the second job. She got home safely.

one word

the one word for today was rainy

I only ever done that little writing exercise once and even that time, I'm pretty sure I went over the sixty second time limit. I'll see what the word of the day is often and think about how I would use the word. I usually don't think up a little story or even a complete sentence but then the directions are "Don't think just write" (I don't write either) but, always, only just a definition comes to mind or rather just a synonym and it's usually not the most common use of the word or it's used in not the most popular way or at least not the most popular, in my opinion. Mostly, it's just a feeling I get.

I could write the feeling but then I would have to think about it and getting the feeling down takes more than a minute. I would arrange a little word town, one building at a time around that feeling until I was satisfied that the name on the town limit sign would match what was witnesses around that last bend in the road.

I'm not good at writing exercises. I think writing is an art and it doesn't make a good fit when you have to shoehorn it into some place.

I don't think writing is best described as right or wrong but I do think it can be described as good or bad. Writing may be technically incorrect but if the words express a thing in such a way so that the reader can feel it, then I think syntax, grammar and punctuation are all superfluous. Sometimes those things can get in the way.

I don't think what I do is art. But I also realize that I am so used to my own voice that it has left me jaded towards it. Maybe if I were new to me, I would like me better.

Rainy - I thought about someone sad, a rainy day even though the sun shone bright.

I think some people do certain activities so they don't have to listen to themselves. iPods, books, TV's, sports, all can drown out the internal dialog. There are some instances when I don't want to hear what my internal dialog says and often I will offer rebuttals to the arguments that I hear within but if I don't give quality time to what that inside voice has to say, I feel I'm neglecting something important. I do a lot of catching up with myself while walking to and fro from work.

I've adjusted my schedule to avoid neighbors that traverse the same route as to the train station, just so I can have a little me time. I don't mean to be rude; it's just that I can do without the chatter.

What do I try to hide?

My doubt

My lack of empathy

My worry

My affection


...

She came up to my office and handed me my check and asked about websites. I pulled up several pages and ran a few searches.

"You're quick"

I just smiled because I didn't think saying 'You should see me looking up porn' was a proper response.

...

I was struggling to stay focused on the job at hand. The job wasn't important or pressing but I was pretty certain that if I lost focus, I will not be gaining it back. My desk phone rang, I looked to see which line was lit up even though I already knew because the lines ring differently.

My direct line was the one that rang but it only rang once, then moments later my cell phone rang. Lady G was on the other end.

"Are you in the field?"

"Nope."

"Good. I'll be at the trolley station in fifteen to twenty minutes. Can you meet me there?"

"Sure."

"And can you bring me a small French Vanilla with three sugars?"

"I will do that"

The line went silent after that and within fifteen minute I was standing was a small coffee of the platform where the middle of the two car light rail train would stop. I stood in the middle because I didn't know which car she would be driving. A few minutes later I saw her driving the front trolley. As she was driving past, she opened the window and said you were supposed to meet me on the other side.

"What did she just tell me?" someone waiting for the trolley asked.

"She said you were supposed to meet her on the other side." someone else waiting for the trolley answered.

There was a little bit more of the exchange between the two perplexed people, who then seemed to be a little bit irritated so I told them that the message they heard was directed at me.

I used the last door to enter the train and then walked up the middle to the front and stood in the stairwell.

"What other side?"

"Over there" she pointed to the inbound platform. Fortunately, the station was a turnaround station so I caught her after she turned around.

"Nice coat" she said referring to the black suede jacket I was wearing which she gave to me a couple years ago.

"Thanks, I do have some nice things."

"I think it's time for a new one. Your present's there." She pointed between the coin box and the front panel of the trolley to a large Old Navy bag.

"Oh." I grabbed the bag while trying to balance in the stairwell having let go of the railing. She drives the trains a little bit fast. I took out the black wool early Spring jacket. "Nice." I then folded back the sleeves flat and rolled the jacket loosely.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"Did what?"

"Just rolled it up like that" and she reached over and pulled it back from the bag as I wondered how much attention one needs to pay when driving a trolley.

"What?! I rolled it loosely."

"No you didn't." She then folded it much like you would find it folded at the retail store and put it back in the bag.

I watched us approach the next station as she finished packing my gift to her liking. She then looked up did some trolley stuff and brought the train to a gentle stop.
"I'm never going to remember who to fold that" I lied. It wasn't that I wouldn't remember, it's just that I really didn't care. I think you get less wrinkles with a roll than you do with a fold but she really knows more about that stuff than I do.

"Were you busy?"

"No. Well, yeah but it wasn't anything that I couldn't stop."

I like watching up front as the trolley travels underground. I think it's quite a view, the lights of the train illuminating the rails, the flutter effect of the fluorescent lights which keep the same beat as the old wooden ties as they are passed by. It reminds me of some cheap special effect used to pretend time travel.

We might have traveled through time a little because before I knew it I was six stops from work. I headed back at the next stop and the trip back seemed to take twice as long.

I sometimes forget that my eyes have power but I have for so many years tried to hide them that I do it without knowing it. There are some people who have never seen me without a hat.

Friday, I left my hat at work; I did it on purpose. I was headed to the bar and I was hoping to last until her seven o'clock shift, which would be four hours from when I left for a late lunch from work.

The power my eyes have are the same power my father's light colored eyes had, you could tell when he was joking, when he was serious, when he loved and when he hated by looking him the eyes. He could control his facial expressions and his voice so sometimes you would have doubts about his true feelings but a look in his eyes though, and you would know the truth. The trouble with looking him in the eyes though is that sometimes it took a bit of a moment to see to the bottom and in that bit of pause he could then see straight down to your soul. You would find out what he was thinking at that moment but he would seem to see all your thoughts for all your life up until that time. I only have a little bit of that second part.

I sometimes wonder if my life would be different if I had brown eyes. Would I have a better chance of hiding my emotions without light colored eyes? Would I be less honest?

The bartenders all do the same thing when they enter the building. They quickly make their way to the safety behind the bar, and once behind the bar they start talking to the nearest bartender and are soon joined by the rest of the help as they update each other on what's going on. It sometimes takes awhile for everyone to catch up to date; drink orders wait.

When she started asking what people wanted is when she noticed me. She came out from behind the bar and gave me a hug.

"I didn't see you sitting there. You're not wearing a hat. I can see your eyes. You have beautiful eyes."

"You do Timmy. You do have beautiful eyes" a waitress added before I could reply.

"Yeah, that's what Paul always tells me" I said as I pointed to my friend to my left which I think made him a little uneasy, that homophobe.

"This is going to cause me trouble" I overheard her say before I looked in her direction. She was looking down, assessing coverage issues. She looked up at me with a look of concern and then assigned me to nipple patrol.

Later when there was a lull, she stood in front of me and my friend and blew a rather large bubble with the green apple bubble gum she was chewing. We stopped our talking while she was blowing.

"I'm impressed with your blowing abilities" I told her with an approving nod.

She replied "And you ain't see nothing yet, sweetie" before she turned to share my wit with another bartender.

My friend leaned over to me and said "I've told you before but I think she would make a lovely Mrs. Catfish."

Possibly

yeah, thanks, for a moment there I was really worried

sometimes when I say "Oh, sorry" what I really mean is "What?! You've got to be freak'n kidding me. I can't believe that you are bothering me with this. Why don't you grow up and get real?"

I love it when their response is "Oh, don't worry, it's okay"

She slowly blinked as she slowly turned back around to face me. I think "Slow equals sexy," very rarely does a sexy woman move quickly. She hadn't stopped talking to me but something had caught her attention on the other side of the window, so she turned to look and then looked back all before her sentence ended. She was nursing a Gin & Ginger. I had my usually Bud Light in front of me.

Her slow blink reminded me of how she'll sometimes close her eyes while brushing her teeth. I always wonder what she's thinking when she does that; it always seems to be something pleasant, something far away but yet right there, right behind her eyelids. I always want to ask her what it is that is meandering through her mind but I never do. I don't know if I'm supposed to know if she closes her eyes or not, I worry if I ask, then she might stop closing her eyes. I worry her pleasant thoughts might stop or at least go unseen. I smiled as I thought about how much I love her.

"What?" she asked. I had forgotten she was looking at me.

"What what?"

"What's with the smile?"

"I smiled?"

"Yeah, just now."

"Nothing"

And then we said nothing because I worried if I told her, than her pleasant thoughts might stop or at least go unseen.

When I got there the bar was crowded, there was only one seat that looked available, I wasn't certain because to the left was a guy in his late thirties and he was talking to a girl in her early twenties to the right, so I inquired about it.

"Is anybody sitting here?"

"No" is what the guy said.

"Is it alright if I sit here?"

There was a slight pause. The guy didn't want me sitting there and when I looked to the girl I couldn’t identify her look. My question was just me being polite, I didn't really need a verbal reply so I started to pull the chair out.

"You sit here. I want to talk to you" the guy said to the girl. The girl looked to me and I gave my 'I really don't give a care where I sit' look. She on the other hand looked like she didn't want to more over a seat but she did. The guy started to talk to her and started moving physically closer to her. He thought he had a chance.

When the guy went to the men's room I leaned slightly towards her and said "I'm sorry I didn't sit between you two."

She laughed and said "That's all right. I'm a cocktail waitress. I can handle him."

A couple beers later, he was all up in her personal business and by now she was facing more towards me than him. She was at this bar because she was on break from the bar that she works at, I figured she had enough. When the guy took a breathe, I said something.

"Hey, what's that Wifi connection you have up there like? Is it free? I know once you sign on you have to enter your email address but after that is there something else?"

"I really don't know. I never use it" and then she touched my arm and said "Thank you."

"I'm glad you understand" I said because I really didn't give a care about the Wifi but then I was a little curious about it.

I smiled and said "This question's for real. Do you get a lot of people in there with computers?"

"I don't see them if we do."

When the guy left for a cigarette, she said we should change our seats.

"Well, I do usually sit down there anyway." I said while pointing.

"Let's move, but let me sit at the end."

After we moved the bartender stopped serving the smoker alcohol and he wasn't interested in any more than half a glass of water so he left.

"I hope he doesn't find me up the street" she said.

"Yeah, me neither."

Before she left she told of her work schedule and that she would most likely be back. I didn't bother telling her that most likely she wouldn't beat me in.

Part of my day job involves documenting certain signs that are installed on the city streets. Some times, on narrow streets, it's better to walk than to drive around but walking around gives people more of an opportunity to ask questions. I usually will listen to my iPod while walking around because it cuts down on some of the questions. I was walking around the other day in my city's little Italy section. The residents there don't like outsiders. An outsider is anyone that wasn't birthed on a checkerboard tableclothed kitchen table in some small apartment over some Italian restaurant within the confines of their tiny neighborhood.

I was unbothered for most of the day which was good because I wasn't in a happy mood. I was unbothered until the last street when I heard someone calling to somebody who could only be me.

"Hey! Buddy, can I help you?"

I finished what I was writing before I turned around to look to see some local construction working hanging out a second story window. I pretended to ponder his question and then said "Nope" and started to write some more, which I knew would irritate they guy but I don't like being hollered at from any window anywhere for most any reason.

"Buddy, what do you need?" I heard as I did my best to suppress a mostly evil grin.

"Nothing. I'm all set but thanks." I answered not looking up from my clipboard.

"Then y's were u's look'n at my van?"

"I's wasn't look'n at your van" I wanted to say 'u's van' instead of 'your van' but I was certain I would have been greeted with a crowbar or some other blunt instrument soon there after, I was pushing it as was.

After that I just continued down the street, fortunately what I was going caused me to have to look back down the street every once and awhile which allowed me to make certain that someone wasn't headed towards me from behind to continue some discussion.

I was half disappointed that the discussion didn't go any further. I too often greet stupid tough guys by being a smart-mouthed asshole and I really should know better than that.

It's a dive bar. When I'm there, some of what happens is we talk about who has been thrown out. I'll tell them what I've heard and they will tell me what they have heard. I'm a grape on the grapevine.

Lately, there are some patrons have been asking those employed at the bar for money. One guy, after sitting at the bar for a few paying as he went, asked the bartender if he could borrow ten bucks, she gave him the sawbuck thinking the guy would leave. The guy didn't leave, he stays for two more beers and then he tipped her one of her own dollars. Another guy asked a manager if he could borrow forty bucks, at the time the guy was close to staggering drunk; the manger helped him out, out of the bar that is. The guy sneaked back in when the manager was occupied with something else and then he asked a bartender for twenty bucks.

When I was told about the second guy by the bartender involved, told me she used my name while she was explaining to the guy why he shouldn't be asking for money.

"Listen guy. You know Timmy. Well, Timmy is here all the time, we all like Timmy and he would never ask for money. He would rather walk home to Dorchester before he would ask anybody for money and he is the only one in this whole freaking bar who I wouldn't mind giving money to."

I've been going to this bar for awhile, I'm there more often than I'm not, which doesn't reflect too well on me but some times I am just drinking sodas and getting lunch. The point is I'm there frequently, I'm liked and I try to make myself welcomed. Tending bar or tables can be trying. I do my best to be an easy customer and I think I leave a better than average tip. It would never occur to me to ask anyone there for money. First, I would be too embarrassed. Second, I think asking for money goes beyond the bartender / patron relationship.

I have actually, kind of, walked home for this Downtown bar before but it wasn't because I didn't have any money. It was more of a situation of not feeling too comfortable with all the alcohol that I had consumed, from Downtown to my house there are seven train stops on this particular night I only used one. It is a four and a quarter mile walk from the bar to my front door, the one train stop cut a mile off of that trip.

She ended up giving the guy twenty bucks, mainly just to get rid of him.

"He tried to come around the bar and he's saying "I know I'm too old for you, so it's nothing like that, it's just that I like you..." and then he goes on and says "..not to creep you out or anything--""

"Too late" I interjected.

The guy we were talking about then came in not three minutes later, she set him up with a beer before he had a chance to speak, her hope was that he would just sit quietly. They spoke a little and I over heard him ask when her shift was over. He mentioned a time that wasn't correct but she told him that it was.

"Yeah right, guy. I'm going to tell you when I'm leaving work" she said after the guy left. "I thought he was going to give me my twenty back but he just wanted to know what time I was leaving...He didn't even pay for that beer."

I had things to do, so I had to leave. I asked for my check. She handed me a bill which only had a charge for a food item on it even though I had consumed more than two beverages. There are often times when I don't get charged for beverages, I rarely will get charged for soft drinks but in this instance I wasn't drinking soft drinks.

"Timmy, you're going to leave me for when that guy comes back?"

"I's gots to go" I said with a shrug. I really did have things to do. A manger was due to be on the clock before that guy was set to return, so I wasn't too worried about it. I'm certain I'll hear the story later.

"Hey, thanks" I added with a nod towards the bill. I left the amount that it should have been plus a tip.

I'm pretty sure some of the other regulars hate me but screw them.

every time I'm asked if I want a shot I take it as a dare and I'll do a shot

I think I do too many shots

I think I take too many dares

So, the guitar started in New Jersey and is now in Rhode Island. I'm in Boston.

So, I'm sitting at my desk and the head of a different division comes to my cube.

"You no good thief!"

"What?"

"Did you pick up some meters the other day?"

"Yeah, Saturday. I dropped them off at the shop."

"Well, I've got a police report here that says you picked up some meters and drove away with them. I have your license plate and everything. Someone reported you to the police."

"You know I worried about that but I knew those meters wouldn't last on the street until Monday especially on St. Patrick's day weekend, that's why I drove right to the shop and dropped them off and then took a photo of them."

"Did the police call you yet?"

"No. I've heard nothing."

"Well, they know you work with us and dropped them off so they probably just threw the report out"

I hope so.