“One Pitcher, One Book”


One pitcher, one book

in a back booth in ‘most light:

Sometimes a chess game.*

 

  • (My sometime haunt near Titusville, actually in Indian River City, a subsumed portion of the city of titty across from where they Throw Rock(et)s at The Moon, is my second-=fave waterin’ hole in that part of Central Florida: East Mims’ Oasis Bar being the first – they actually put in a small reading lamp in the furthermost table along the front wall of the place Harold’s WineBurger made famous from when it was a place where Kennedy Space Center workers and more than just a few actual astronauts used to stop by after work.  The other places so to accommodate me was Cook’s Corner and Uncle Nick’s in Sanford, though both had enough extra light to make reading or playing chess sans extra illumination just fine.  Sometimes I’d get sent back to the back booth at Nick’s for toward behavior or general boorishness but always with a pitcher to keep me occupied.  Sometimes a pal would come by to palaver or play chess: but mostly I had my favorite companion for company.  A book.  Once ever October I’d submit to a haircut and beard trim – but only by Big Jan a genuine hairdresser slingin’ booze for a better livin’ and being a pal of my mother I could only say yes – but it must be in October only and she must cut the hair right out front in the parking lot over by the big billboard with enough light for her to see how to chop it all off but leave just a little fuzz both on top of and below my chin.  Touch not the ‘stachioes!)

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