Tuesday, May 18, 2021

THAT THIRD CUP OF JAVA

Something I never do, and in principle disapprove of, fiercely, because I am a puritanical old grumpus, old fashioned, and opinionatedly sour. An altogether miserable old git. In about four hours I shall be at a bar. Bar hopping at ten in the morning is something Santa Conners and suburban fratboys do. It's their Chad lifestyle.

The company that employs an old friend is filming a booze commercial, and needs colourful San Franciscan characters for the background hubbubaloo. Nothing is more colourful than a standard issue Caucasian, such as myself, gracefully fading into to darkness beyond the line of sight. So I approve wholeheartedly.

I cannot think of a better place to enjoy a cup of morning coffee than a seedy dive.


It's a pity you cannot smoke in bars anymore. Not smoking is the acme of Chad and Karen hipness these days. Like everyone, I don't smoke only when I'm out drinking with friends.

Seeing as I don't drink, this must cause inner conflict.

Trim white guy. Not smoking. Not drinking.

What am I? A health freak?



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