STORY WRITTEN: OCTOBER 2015
LAST VISIT: 11 APRIL 2015
STORY REWORKED: MARCH 2019
LAST VISIT: 11 APRIL 2015
STORY REWORKED: MARCH 2019
THE RESTAURANT THOUGHTS ON THIS PAGE ARE REAL.
THE CHARACTERS MAY OR MAY NOT BE.
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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental(?)
THE CHARACTERS MAY OR MAY NOT BE.
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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental(?)
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“It’s fantastic when you travel the world by yourself. I think it shows a ton of character.”
Pause. He looks at me. His face is... odd.
“I wish you would die.”
The man sitting next to him once said to me.
“I overheard you talk (overheard) — you don’t think like the rest of us.”
Friday night sucks.
To his right stood another man, a bitch: can a man be?
He overheard a conversation I had, a week before. In the conversation I questioned the selfishness of women in their 60s having children.
To which he asked me:
“What are you, a Nazi?”
I’m not.
Pause. He looks at me. His face is... odd.
“I wish you would die.”
The man sitting next to him once said to me.
“I overheard you talk (overheard) — you don’t think like the rest of us.”
Friday night sucks.
To his right stood another man, a bitch: can a man be?
He overheard a conversation I had, a week before. In the conversation I questioned the selfishness of women in their 60s having children.
To which he asked me:
“What are you, a Nazi?”
I’m not.
A mere few feet to his right, stood another—a friend. This man knows the struggles of my writing quest. Yet:
“How’s your writing hobby coming along?”
Yet, again, sharing everything about his life—as if sharing, is actually—sharing.
His significant other hasn’t worked in 4-years, he’s not handicapped—but without hesitation is painted as a great person—who are we to judge.
“How’s your writing hobby coming along?”
Yet, again, sharing everything about his life—as if sharing, is actually—sharing.
His significant other hasn’t worked in 4-years, he’s not handicapped—but without hesitation is painted as a great person—who are we to judge.
“We’ve opened up our relationship."
Lightness turned dark. I asked:
Lightness turned dark. I asked:
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I feel the urge to comment. I feel like less of a person when I do. I resist.
I need a break. I look over my right shoulder — a racist — at least her comments from the past, left racist, as the only judgement.
I reach out. I give her another chance. Please don’t be a racist crossed my mind.
I’m naive. I don’t understand the point. Sure, the world is fractured—we all need to find a way to stop being part of the fracturing—the fracturing happens to be the sole responsibility of greed.
I need a break. I look over my right shoulder — a racist — at least her comments from the past, left racist, as the only judgement.
I reach out. I give her another chance. Please don’t be a racist crossed my mind.
I’m naive. I don’t understand the point. Sure, the world is fractured—we all need to find a way to stop being part of the fracturing—the fracturing happens to be the sole responsibility of greed.
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This isn’t a PRISON YARD. It’s a local watering hole. It should be a happy place—where the patrons need to be grateful because they can afford a fucking drink. I may be insane to subject myself to...
Please don’t be racist crossed my mind once more.
I SHARE
“I’m going to Bellingham tomorrow to work with my “hobby” editor. Crossing the border is always an adventure. The border guards are frustrating. One of them once told me that everybody crossing the border lies. I don’t lie, I said to her.”
Please don’t...
“Asians are the liars. Every single one of them, they make it worse for the rest of us.”
Maybe this is a PRISON YARD.
I hope she reads this.
I feel sad.
At work today: June 2017—a worker was in handcuffs in front of the office.
Another worker in his late fifties chose to comment.
“You’re down a worker. A brown guy is being arrested; bleeping (n-word).
My blood curdles.
“Do not, fucking, talk that way, ever again.”
He will.
I should have asked: Do you feel better about yourself now?
Please don’t be racist crossed my mind once more.
I SHARE
“I’m going to Bellingham tomorrow to work with my “hobby” editor. Crossing the border is always an adventure. The border guards are frustrating. One of them once told me that everybody crossing the border lies. I don’t lie, I said to her.”
Please don’t...
“Asians are the liars. Every single one of them, they make it worse for the rest of us.”
Maybe this is a PRISON YARD.
I hope she reads this.
I feel sad.
At work today: June 2017—a worker was in handcuffs in front of the office.
Another worker in his late fifties chose to comment.
“You’re down a worker. A brown guy is being arrested; bleeping (n-word).
My blood curdles.
“Do not, fucking, talk that way, ever again.”
He will.
I should have asked: Do you feel better about yourself now?
TODAY I FINISHED READING: The Audacity of Hope - Barack Obama—wonderful!
Hana keep walking, help me escape the YARD.
Let’s grab a bite together, you and me; and, your friends!
Shall we dump the hostility of ignorance as we chow down?
The story is about to pivot, thankfully!
Let’s grab a bite together, you and me; and, your friends!
Shall we dump the hostility of ignorance as we chow down?
The story is about to pivot, thankfully!
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