A friend, that's more actually of a friend of a friend, had three brain tumors removed from his head. He thinks it's time for him to write his memoirs.

I guess he doesn't type or maybe he can't – now, so I was asked to install voice recognition software onto his laptop computer, to make sure every thing was working I trained it to my voice, despite my Boston accent it recognized what I was saying.

I would rather learn to type, though, if that were a possibility.

…

I've forgotten the good stuff for my memoirs.

There are still times I'll read a name in the newspaper, someone accepting some higher position somewhere, and I'll say to myself "Hey, I know them."

…But that was long ago.


…

Someone else told me today that they have never seen me mad.

"I wish I had your demeanor" she said.

I offered no reply.

…

She came in at seven, walked behind that bar and said hello to the other bartenders and before she was completely finished with her greetings she stopped and announced "It smells like a douche in here."

I don't know if she actually made eye contact with the patron that was directly in front of her or not as she was making her statement but he put the cover back on the malt vinegar and started using the ketchup for his fries.

poe tay toe poe tat toe

She called me a liar.

"I'm a performer, an entertainer, a teller of stories."

"You lied"

"When you read a work of fiction, do you call the author a liar? When you watch television do you call the actors liars?"

"Ahh - ya lied" she said with some dismissive hand gesture.

"I'm just an actor in this play of life and the world is my stage" is what I tried to say with a straight face but I cracked up laughing because I was lying but it was for the sake of entertainment.

So, you know it was just a matter of time.

You know I wouldn't go without it.

I was only kidding myself.

We all know that

So, I escaped the office and was working in some public place minding my own business trying not to make eye contact with anyone because I'm hogging a table for four and I'm just a one, when for some reason I glanced up and saw this dude and said to myself "That dude looks like Anti" and I grinned a bit and the dude grinned back.

So, yeah it looked like I was flirting with a dude.

I knew it wasn't Anti because why would anyone from LA fly out to Boston.

We were having coffee just like we usually do, talking about the plans for the day, trying to work out the car situation, guessing the snow totals, planning the Christmas gathering when someone asked what the date was, "December the seventh"

"The seventh? Shit - Pearl Harbor Day"

"And you know what I didn't read anything about it in the papers" is what the only veteran in the group said.

Then we started talking about snow again.

So, there I was stringing lights on a nine foot artificial Christmas tree.

I'm not certain if the Christmas is artificial or if it's just the tree that's fake.

It took about two hours to find the lights, get them to work by replacing bulbs and put them on the tree. She likes the lights a certain way, a way in which the wires aren't too visible. Towards the end I thought "What a waste of time" because in four weeks someone will be undoing all that I've done.

But I wasn't there for me and if left to my own devices I would have been doing much of nothing.

I was told the tree looked great. I said "I think it looks okay."

"I'm going to jump in the shower. Could you just make sure the basement is locked."

"Yup. Just let me check those mouse traps before I forget."

The mouse traps where up stairs in her bedroom, while I was setting them I actual saw the mouse.

So, I got to meet one of the boyfriends before some of her co-workers so I'm being asked about him.

"Is he cute?"

"I wouldn't say he's cute but he's good looking."

"So he's ugly"

"No. It's just that I would say he's more good looking than he is cute."

"Is he hot?"

"Listen, I'm not answering that...but I wanted to do him right there."

I'm kind of in the middle of an experiment.

I like to say that I don't drink because I like drinking but I drink because I like hanging out at the bar and one usually drinks when hanging out at the bar so I drink.

But sometimes, even though I've never actually heard myself say "Boy, would I like a drink" and then go to the bar, I wonder if booze is a factor. I have heard myself say "Boy, would I like a drink" and then grab a bottle of something at the house.

Enjoying a drink is different from drinking.

So, I figure I'll go booze-free for awhile.

But I still go to the bar for lunch.


The fourteenth is a secret Christmas Party (invite only) for the day job and the sixteenth is a nonsecret Christmas Party for the second job. I'm sort of expected to be at the second party cause of my station in life.

During the planning for the first party it was stated to start at the bar, go to eat, then go back to the bar.

"We won't get a seat at the bar then" I said.

"What do you just want to stay at the bar all night?"

I didn't answer. My opinion is known. If the goal is to get screwed up on alcohol, why fuss about with a proper diner interrupting your drinking. We could sit at the bar and be kings, is all I'm saying but we have to be sitting at the bar. We would get even better treatment than usual because usually we're not all there at night. The barkeeps would consider it their mission to get us wrecked.

I suppose a little dining finely would bother me much.

I'm big on tourism.

At twelve thirty, I was the only one to occupy a stool. Jen was serving the drinks, she was a little hung over from the Friday night before so we thought a shot might set her straight. I was drinking Bloody Mary's otherwise.

She said the shot helped. I know mine helped me.

People started to trickle in and a tourist from Milwaukee sat to my left, he was the only one to remain after forty minutes.

"I would like a shot" the guy eventually informed the barkeep.

"A shot of what?"

"Jameson. Would you like one?"

"I only like Vodka"

He didn't want Vodka so he turned to me and asked the same question.

"Sure" was my answer

"Yeah, he'll drink anything" she said as she laughed.

Then there was a discussion about hard liquor and the two others concluded that gin makes people angry.

"I guess I'll stop ordering my gin drinks then" I said.

Then Jen thought for a moment. "I've never seen you angry. Isn't that strange?"

I thought it would have been stranger if she had seen me angry but what I said was "It happens from time to time. Sometimes, you have to get loud to get stuff done."

"I hear you but still I've never seen you angry"

"Maybe later I'll start a fight"

"Yeah. I'd like to see that"

After another Bloody Mary, I ordered a reciprocal shot of Jameson for my out of town friend and asked Jen if she wanted another shot of Vodka. The three of us downed the mismatched shots together.

Later came and it was fight free

My camera still exists. I noticed it on my friend's kitchen table. She wasn't at home. I was there just setting up her Christmas tree. I let myself in the back door.

I miss my camera but I can't think of one instance where I said to myself "I wish I had my camera" in the past two and a half weeks.

I've set up her tree for years, even before she was divorced.

Normally, I would just go and buy another camera but I'm trying to stop pissing money away. I sometimes spend foolishly and you know what they say "a fool and his money are soon parted."

I don't need a camera.


I waste my talents, even the ones I don't know about.


Once for my father's birthday, us kids bought him a Randall knife. They were all custom made back then and the waiting list was eight years or so. It took us awhile to save up the money. We got his name stamped into the blade.

He had a Randall once but lost it when his canoe tipped over. It was either save his pregnant wife or save the knife. He lost his knife.

My mother recently held forth the knife, us kids gifted him so long ago. It was being stored in its leather sheath. The leather ring handle was showing moisture damage, it was opaque white towards the end. She asked if I knew how to fix it. I told her to wet it. She did and the leather rings shown through. I said saddle soap and some oil will fix it and I was about to tell her that it shouldn't be stored in the sheath but before I could she asked if I wanted it. I stifled a 'Hell ya' and just said "Yes" instead.

It's not stored in its leather sheath anymore.

He was the type of guy that didn't fear death. It didn't make him brave.

It did make him bold.

You could see in his eyes that he was ready to fight to the death. You could also see that he recognized no equal. It didn't make him brave.

It did make him bold.

We were drinking. I thought we were just drinking at the same time. She thought we were drinking together.

She told me she wanted to leave her boyfriend after eight years of being together. I was careful with what I said in reply. I didn't want to be on the hook for any new boyfriend duties. Somehow she must have picked up on it because later she said "I'm not looking for a husband I just want to fuck you" I offered no reply.

She started to speak of past relationships and showed me a diamond ring and said something I couldn't quite hear but I gathered she kept the ring as a fine to the one that let her down.

"I've never told that to anyone before" she said as she started to cry. She grabbed my hand. I just kept looking towards the ring trying to give her as much privacy as possible. She found more privacy on my left shoulder as she grabbed my hand tighter.

I listen because I hope some day I'll find someone to trust to hear me

She leaned over the bar and said “I’ve wanted to talk to you but it’s hard to compete with tears.”

It was a slightly awkward situation because I would have rather not been a victim of the tears but when a woman shows you honest tears it something hard to escape unless you have an uncaring heart of stone. I tried to harden mine but she caught me by surprise and by the time I realized what was happening it was too late.

There a certain level of trust that’s expended, a level of trust that’s hard to ignore even if it is alcohol induced. I knew her life left her untrusting and I was a devote advocate of trust. I was trapped by my own morals, there was no escape.

I glanced over my shoulder to the stairs which a lonely woman just descended moments ago making sure she wasn’t returning just that moment “What can you do?” I asked.

“You’re a nice guy.”

“Yeah, There’s no hope for me.”

Then from downstairs, she returned from the lady’s room and continued to literally cry on my shoulder.

There’s a reason she doesn’t order chop suey.

Her mother divorced her father after thirteen years of marriage. She was five the youngest of eight. Three years later another alcoholic feel in love with her mother only her mother wasn’t going to marry another alcoholic. He promised to give up and as far as she knew he did, he never drank in front of her but then he wasn’t always in front of her.

She had a greater attraction to him than any other of her seven siblings maybe because she had less memories of her biological father, maybe because the world hadn’t damaged her trust enough as the others.

One day a request for Chinese food was made and he offered to pick it up. It should have taken twenty minutes but he was late in returning. The head on collision had caused a permanent delay.

To this day she doesn’t eat Chinese food.

So, I got some of the dough I was owed.

It was a slight surprise much like the amount of cash that still resides in my checking account.


"Nice sweater" I looked down to see which sweater I was wearing when she said "I didn't buy that one did I?"

"Nope"

"Nice jacket...although it's looks worn." She had bought me the jacket, black suede.

"I like the worn look."

"I know"