Thursday, December 06, 2018


After three queenly cocktails (one part gin, two parts Dubonnet, lemon) the beastly cold did not affect me. Which is good, a pipesmoker must spend time outside. From a block away I heard Jackie and Joe (two people I only know from their behaviour last night) arguing on their way to the Tower, they were bitchy when they passed, and I could hear them inside while I was outside enjoying the peace, quiet, and aged Virginia tobacco in my briar.

The only two others inside at that time were Josha and Ambika, and some halfwit blonde twit. who left shortly afterwards. Barb threw Jackie out (refused to serve her). As anyone would have done. Solve your domestic issues elsewhere. Mass murder, if any, some other time.
We cater to sane individuals.
And pipe-smokers.

That last would be me. I may be me. I might be the last one left in this neighborhood.
As I am sure the girl with the kissy lips on the bus realizes. Yes, she is unsuitably young. But there is that intelligence sparking in her face, and she was on the bus down to C'town, as well as, remarkably, on the bus back four hours later. That face -- because of the intelligence in it -- has charm, and an attractiveness and sparkly character that make it seem like she would be fun to converse with.
Unfortunately no one like that cruises by at one in the morning when a pipesmoker might be on his third Dubonnet and gin.
With a slice of lemon.

It is unlikely that she and I will ever end up talking.
After all, I am a skeevy old guy. She is so much younger.
But she does have beautiful lips.
So I'll just look.

Don't trust me. I am bad.

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