So This Is What It's Come To...

On Saturday, I could hear my newest characters rattling around in my head. But not clearly. They seem to prefer telling their story in public rather than at home. So I looked out at the parking lot across the street. Empty. It was getting to be lunch time and the bar on my corner has decent food so I packed up my laptop and off we went.

For an hour and a half, they chattered non-stop. Great progress was made. Chapter four was nearly finished when they decided I could take a break and have a slice of pizza. Very decent for bar pizza. Cheap but with tons of cheese!

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that this particular establishment is a sports bar. Thirty-plus large screen TVs most of which, as it turned out, were displaying the Penn State football game. As I was sitting there, munching my pizza, checking emails an old man appeared at my side. Truly, I have nothing against old people. There are some I absolutely adore. This one, however, is not destined to become one of them.

He started out by commenting that I finally took a break from my homework to which I replied that I was writing a book. So far so good. He asked what kind. I told him vampires. That’s it. Nothing else. Not a word about the general nature of most of my books. He offered to let me bite his neck. Um, no, thank you. Then he asked to bite mine. Again, no, thanks. I was well behaved. I didn’t point out that it would be difficult without any teeth. Perhaps they were in his pocket? So I went back to my pizza, hoping to end the conversation.

When he shuffled off to the restroom, I took a good look at him. Shorts, hiked up to his armpits, stained cardigan, black socks, white slip-on shoes. Old man bowed legs, hunched over and the kind of face that was so aged I couldn’t imagine what he once looked like. Nothing wrong with any of that but honestly, not exactly what I find physically appealing.

Oh his return from the restroom, he paused again. First he announced he had season tickets to Penn State and would be taking me to a game. Nope. I’ve made it this long without ever watching a football game. I certainly don’t intend to begin now. Next he wanted to know did I come there often. Yeah, he really did ask that. For the record, then line has never, ever worked with me. His third attempt, though more original, did absolutely nothing to further his cause. He said, and I quote, “I may not be able to cut the mustard anymore but I can still lick the lid.” This was naturally accompanied by much winking. Can you say ew?

Yes, I shooed him away without exchanging numbers. But by then it was too late. I had to leave. There was so much hysterical laughter going on inside my head by that point that I knew my characters were done for the day.