It should have been a lovely evening, the perfect and relaxed way to end a day well-spent. Instead, one of the local 'business' owners brought in a friend whom I rather wish he had left in a garbage can somewhere.
I am enough of a cheapskate that I deeply resent abandoning my drink (Scotch and water), and still human enough that the utterly delighted expressions on the faces of the few patrons in the place and the co-owner, have burned an indelible impression on my mind.
No one likes being laughed at.
I had barely filled a pipe when ---- came in with a friend, who plonked himself down at the table and started haranguing me about space aliens building Easter Island. ---- was too busy with his cell-phone to intervene, and consequently his manic-depressive associate had free reign.
I never did get that pipe lit. After ten minutes of circular hogwash from ----'s arrogant brother I had had enough and got up, emptied my pipe, put my barely touched drink on the bar, and paid my bill.
Tipped, too, which given the sheer putrid loathsomeness of the experience was rather overly generous, especially as apparently everyone else there was in on the joke, and keenly amused. Smirking bastards.
That's money, tobacco, and time I'll never see again.
And a mood I rather wouldn't have had.
Nobody likes being laughed at.
Or wasting money.
On the other hand, the roast duck I had eaten in Chinatown earlier was utterly delicious, and there is no chance in hell any of the customers of the cigar bar will ever go there.
Places where one is appreciated (and not laughed at) are worth treasuring. They're doing well, and do not need the patronage of cigar smokers.
Their food is excellent, and they make people feel welcome.
That makes a world of difference.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No comments:
Post a Comment