the ladykillers
Every Tuesday evening, round 9 p.m., two guys walk into Ritters.
One is an older man, probably in his seventies, dressed like any 70-year-old man would be - trucker hat, vest, flannel. The other is somewhat younger, probably around mid-late fifties, and he looks as though he stepped through time. He actually looks a lot like Brak's dad on the Brak show: hair saturated with pomade and styled in an old-fashioned, Dapper Dan way, greasy mustache, starched jeans and a checkered shirt.
Kind of like this, but more down on the farm-y:
Both sit in the non-smoking section and discuss things. One time, one passed the other an enormous wad of money, though it was hard to tell what the reason was, and it could very easily have just been a large stack of ones. The younger one has such an extremly soothing and non-threatening voice it's difficult to not to tune in and listen. He places their orders so politely and gently, and the waitresses address them with fondness and familiarity. They spend a lot of time talking, and the younger one seems to always have a lot ot say. maybe they are father and son. councelor and client. parole officer and former criminal. two AA members keeping each other in check. Regardless of what they are, they meet there and talk every week. Sometimes it's hard not to listen.
Last night, the older man passed the younger man a picture. It's a black and white image of a golden era screen siren, printed from the internet. The younger man unfolds it and asks, "Well, what have we got here?" and the older man replies, "that's Vanessa Barber [or something like that], she was on Broadway for a short period of time in the '50s...."and continues handing the other man more printouts of pictures or whatever. At that point I started to feel funny for watching them out of the corner of my eye for so long, and anyway, the check came. But as I was getting up to go, the older man goes on, "for the longest time, I've felt a very strong psychic connection to her, and I always knew that one day, our lives would intersect at some point......" It was so peculiar and intersting, his setup, that I simply had to know the rest of the story. But I was gone before he finished, and hopefully before they caught on to my rude eavesdropping. Perhaps in a few days I'll have an elaborate plotline to finish it in my head.
Next Tuesday, the saga continues.
One is an older man, probably in his seventies, dressed like any 70-year-old man would be - trucker hat, vest, flannel. The other is somewhat younger, probably around mid-late fifties, and he looks as though he stepped through time. He actually looks a lot like Brak's dad on the Brak show: hair saturated with pomade and styled in an old-fashioned, Dapper Dan way, greasy mustache, starched jeans and a checkered shirt.
Kind of like this, but more down on the farm-y:
Both sit in the non-smoking section and discuss things. One time, one passed the other an enormous wad of money, though it was hard to tell what the reason was, and it could very easily have just been a large stack of ones. The younger one has such an extremly soothing and non-threatening voice it's difficult to not to tune in and listen. He places their orders so politely and gently, and the waitresses address them with fondness and familiarity. They spend a lot of time talking, and the younger one seems to always have a lot ot say. maybe they are father and son. councelor and client. parole officer and former criminal. two AA members keeping each other in check. Regardless of what they are, they meet there and talk every week. Sometimes it's hard not to listen.
Last night, the older man passed the younger man a picture. It's a black and white image of a golden era screen siren, printed from the internet. The younger man unfolds it and asks, "Well, what have we got here?" and the older man replies, "that's Vanessa Barber [or something like that], she was on Broadway for a short period of time in the '50s...."and continues handing the other man more printouts of pictures or whatever. At that point I started to feel funny for watching them out of the corner of my eye for so long, and anyway, the check came. But as I was getting up to go, the older man goes on, "for the longest time, I've felt a very strong psychic connection to her, and I always knew that one day, our lives would intersect at some point......" It was so peculiar and intersting, his setup, that I simply had to know the rest of the story. But I was gone before he finished, and hopefully before they caught on to my rude eavesdropping. Perhaps in a few days I'll have an elaborate plotline to finish it in my head.
Next Tuesday, the saga continues.