Been There?

Suppose I'm on the warpath. They turn the rotten scoundrels on me?!!
Don't they know from horse's mouth? All most typical and repetitive.
They don't speak with one but plenty talk about. Blah yadda yup; zowie.
No "How are you?" No "Anything we can do?" "Can't support you!" Bugger.

Big decision come morning. Do I visit Francesca? Maybe have a drink.
Might even crack open the Benedictine beforehand. Is that wise? 🔺
I guess I'll find out. Think to ask her what she'd give me for penmanship.
Just don't know. What if she's got a girlfriend? Wouldn't put it past her.

Infiltration

Went to the old Paisley Violin, which is become Third Space - no clue.

The DJ was cookin'. Plenty of shots. The recycled steel sculpture removed.

Good talk with some IT fellows about rehabbing Grand Avenue. Going on for years.

All a blur... about the time of going to Lux because I recall one of the baristas moved.

She was working at a place near Polk and Paisley was nearby, north of her. Odd venue.

Simply cleared of whatever fixtures of the former shop space, not done over at all.

Never any business at Paisley; they went to a wine bar approach subsequently.

They did that First Friday thing. How'd you like to depend on one night a month?!!

Last night was last Friday. Not much business yet tough finding parking spot.

You think, amidst all the raving sort of locations, something going on elsewhere?

Brief conversation with fellow, his face dissected. Squamous cell carcinoma, ear.

Round one was observing movie on TV. Silly swamp thing... "Is this a zombie affair?"

He said he was a zombie. I told him it looked like nice work. (Just discharged.)

Went back. Said I worked for anesthesiologists and saw lots of flaps. Reconstruction.

He was somewhat nonplussed. All I could do was make a joke as Rod Stewart wailed.
"Some friends are going to see Stewart. Comments concern who's in wheelchairs -
him or us. They just keep going and going." Put my tea down and left. Went home.
No; went to Winco. Then home. Fixed dinner. Continued Truscott's memoirs.

Cultural Appropriation

After listening to several renditions of "Frankie and Johnny" after some time just loving Francesca while studying Frankie, feel this is the most fun. But the fun is over as I had to get out of the proverbial kitchen. There's been no time, she on the job, to relate the old sensibility of working the nicey-nicely dining room and sometimes having to go to the line (at some peril as they didn't want to be disturbed, especially when tickets up) with an issue and receive a blue streak of "What the hell is wrong with the customer - it's perfect." (I've got nothing to do with Nellie Bly neither!) Histories and lessons.

Back and forth it was 'coped' with via a few gentle words, thus. Other matters as well. That's OK. But I shouldn't have appropriated the tune above except in fun as mentioned and the expectation that we might hit it off. I wrote her a ditty several weeks ago upon a greeting card noting how we'd surprisingly become fast friends. I never gave it to her as I didn't want to force the issue and, frankly (avoiding the pun), feeling inadequate. Thought she was younger than she looks. As fantastic as she does, she could have anyone. From what I gather, she pretty well set up herself and in no need of support.

That was part of the fantasy. Wish I were a man of means... I'd pull her out of the hellacious environment. But she seems to be doing the job otherwise. I don't know what her circumstance is. I must say, the way she seemed to 'come on' made me go through some changes and, yes, fantasize. I've had many a phantom conversation with her. I'd like to tell her everything. She's told me a few adventurous things.

It was a coincidence that I had thought of taking a picture alongside the police station at 39th and Cactus. There's usually a Job Corps van parked there. One for the Facebook deals on wheels followed up with "Tupelo Honey" or something. She told me she grew up nearby. The day I went back after many passings by, it wasn't there but I took a walk in the park catty-corner. Imagining she'd see the pictures, I humored her while perhaps leaving myself open to a stalking rap.

Ah, the memory mill. Another woman I got sweet on years ago was easily found on Facebook and I casually made the request. I don't know whether it was tongue-in-cheek or not, but that was the first thing she said in the response. I was mortified. Subsequently found out she was lesbian and in no mood for me except for occupying common space at coffee. I didn't know what to do. Francesca may be in similar mode. Complications. Not only the reality of her treating all the boys to the treatment, but the possibility of being set up for dashing disappointment. You just don't know unless a civil connection is made and, er, frank discussion clears the air.

My Dad and I used to go to that park as well. With our dogs. That leads to saying the whole baseball watching deal includes memory of him insofar as we took in many a game. I miss him and look to substitute the experience with other fellows. All these memories cascading as I dream of being with her. Holy cow! It's gotten too much for me. Tell her about it? Fat chance of that amidst the beastly locals.

She got to cussing with the boys and it really hurt to see her go slumming like that. Did she do it to get my goat? Either way, I thought it sadistic. She knows I'm churched; she's out-spewing the boys and teasing the older men, some of them eating it up. Disturbing and excruciating. Had to extricate myself but was angry, residual anger from recent spats with evil women influencing attitude. All a function of perception or misperception, more than I could handle. Can't go back there. But need to apologize for cold zinger.

So, I'm convicted of acerbity and said appropriation with touch of flighty ditz.
Loosening up here to write that apology. So sorry to have been judgemental.

Captive Resource

Awfully confused but willing to wait out storm.
What fate is this? So like Hugo... no, not the old customer.
That was Portland Hilton. He and his beau for lunch. Peggy!
She be nice and git'm before back to work. Judges too. Sling?!!

Deep Regret

Well, Francesca's busy acting out a role with the boys. Mental cruelty presents.
Had to tell her she was a sadist - she sure hurt my mind but not my heart. Bravo?
Not really. I may have hurt her. But, if insignificant to her, probably not. Not good.
The best thing about falling in love and not having it pan out is forgetting all the blur.
Forget the last time you loved, all your loves, all issues resolved. Go far, far away.

Behave Yourself

In love with Francesca. All the world to see. Keeping upright. Feel the fool.
Don't know what to do. Prayed over it and for her. Intensely vulgar situation.
And last night, thinking it over, felt the old pain. Awful thing, love and pain.
Would that we could watch "Love and Death" together. We could laugh good.

Refresh Yourself

Felt that queasy thing in the gut, working hard.
Got the dead oleander replaced. It's been years.

Same sort of a transition when I redid this...
2005, was it? It's on the old blog location.

Got the procedure to retrieve it. No dice.
Have more time sometime to work it out.

Gets the Picture

Boone companion? Remains to be seen. Very complicated. Histories.
It was love at first botch. The worst cheeseburger I've ever had, bar none.
Put it out of my mind; she's much too young. Then she was up front.
Now, I'm awfully bewildered. Only a schmuck falls for a bartender.

There's so much to do. Need this like a hole in the head. So...
conditioned... my own space... no intruders... no castigation.
But get fixed up, doing the things need done, maybe have her
for dinner. Get organized? Have just coffee first; somehow. Meld.

Just Poifect Four Eyes

Bit of an experiment. Old purse put to use.
Wallet's gone missing. Calls made. Waiting.

Everything just peachy with Francesca. There.
Haven't determined whether she likes Granny.

Franky and Granny were sweethearts. Lordy, how...
they held off until all the ducks lined up. Soon.

Hold on there... is not purse... is clutch, no?
"Would take some little 'splainin', no?" 😎 Definitely.

How ironic she's an optician. Nothing like bad memories...
mine own father a put-down artist of brutal transactions.

Good Read?

Learn something new every day Department.
My parents has this in their bookcase. Along with...
Anyway, came across otherwise and looked into Kindle.
Not free but a purchase maybe later. Definitely.

Then got filled in on tontines. Like annuities.
Book's about Napoleonic War veterans getting bilked.
Sort of like Ponzi schemes and Madoff scenario.
I'd looked into South Seas and tulip bubbles previously.

Watching my assets closely. Feel rather free in most regards.
Remembered catching counterfeit $50 years ago. Teller.
"Mr. Jay with a toopay came to say, hey: good job."
He was vice president at Dollar Savings Bank, the Bronx.

Wonder

Do they train the help to ignore the customers?
When you're standing at the service counter? Need water.
Have to frankly let them know what's up, standing there.
Don't do it often - holler; they're just girls working hard.