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.
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