On Living in a Relatively Small Town
A while back I lost my hat at a local pizzaria, and then later my friends opened a bar. Well, one of the cooks they hired to work at Elements is the same friendly guy who recovered my hat at the pizza place. He’s a skater like my rock-star brother, and very friendly-one of those folks who seems to be a very good judge of people, which I know because every time he gets off work and sees me at the bar he sits down, has a pint, and tells me part of his life story, and in my opinion, anybody who decides to tell me his life story when we really don’t know each other must be a good judge of character, because I’ve got lots of character and it’s mostly good (according to my mother). On Sunday I ran into him at the grocery store, where he was shopping patiently at the seafood counter. I was going to invite him to my barbeque, but it turned out he had some lovely young lady visiting him for dinner, and I am not about to interfere in the mating rituals of a skater cook.