Morning, I'm at The Hurst for
breakfast, not exactly on the same bar stool I was on 12 hours
earlier. (I read a review of this place somewhere, they said if they
had showers here you could just live here. Breakfast, lunch, dinner,
beer, music, and no TV.) It's a nice feeling, somehow. Not a bad
thing, like I have no other life. What would that life be, anyway, if
I had it? A wife and kids. I don't know—I haven't gotten over being
a kid yet, I really haven't.
I've just eaten, I have a full cup of
coffee, and Billie Holiday is playing, I couldn't be more in place. I
could just sit back and appreciate the little things, but I want to
get back to my New Way, telling the whole truth and all. I had an
interesting experience here last night. I was sitting at the bar,
drinking coffee and writing in my notebook, not talking to anyone, as
usual. Perfectly happy. Listening to people at open mic night. Then a
bunch of people came in—all together? I don't know—but it was
that kind of a whirlwind kind of thing like when someone is returning
from a long absence. Plus, they were all cold and had this freshness
and vitality and outdoorness radiating off of them like they just
walked here from the ocean or something. (It's a two hour drive, so
that's not possible—motorcycles?) I don't even know if they were
all together, but there was definitely a group of people who knew
each other—a short, good-looking guy who went and hugged a few
people here. There was a bunch of roses produced from somewhere. The
woman who checks ID's and takes money, who sits by the door, and I'll
talk about later, got a vase for the roses. Were they for her? Or the
people arriving? I was trying to observe, to figure out the
relationships, etc., when I noticed that one of the people who came
in was a woman who used to work here as a waitress when we first
moved here—she was someone I always liked, and then one day she was
gone, as happens with waitresses, and well, even your own
co-workers. She was actually the first person in Portland that I had
a kind of crush on. More like, if there was going to be someone I
would have a crush on, it would be her. I couldn't really have a real
crush on anyone while I was going out with Heather—it wasn't until
we broke up that the complete fury of my heart was unleashed. Now, I
don't even get crushes anymore—I'm beyond that. More on that later.
Later—much later.
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