I went to Denny's this morning around 4:30 because I needed some fresh air (yeah, Denny's a fresh air, I know, but I meant the drive over there...well...the meandering over there, really ). There was a group of drunk lesbians in there singing along with whatever song was playing and provding some good entertainment thusly. It had me smiling.
I ate my sandwich and as I was about half done a fairly drunk gentleman walked in who was apparently a regular. He had a few records under his arm, and after the waitress took his order, he asked if she'd like to buy one. She turned him down sayings she only had a tape player. I was just finishing up, and had meant to ask what he had anyway, when he turned to me and asked if I wanted to buy one. He had a couple I didn't know, but what caught my eye was a Bruce Springstein album. It was pretty much in perfect condition, original cover, liner notes, all of it.
So, I asked him how much he'd want for it. I've been trying to find something for my dad's 50th and that's why I was interested. He doesn't listen to records much anymore, unfortunately, but he's a big Boss fan. The man told me he was going to try selling them to a couple people for six dollars a piece or two for ten bucks. I didn't really have to think about it because I knew it would make a good present, but I feigned because for some reason I wanted to talk to him. He was probably exuding that aura that people have when they just want someone to talk to. I'm pretty familiar with that, and pick up on it even if I don't realize it.
So we talked for awhile while his food was being cooked. The poor guy's wife left him for a lawyer after he'd worked his ass off for twenty years to pay off their house. He'd moved her out of her alkie dad's garage on the south side in a decent apartment, found a perfect house in a nice neighborhood, and bought it up right away. She hadn't wanted any kids, so it was just the two of them living together in harmony for twenty years. Twenty years, man. She gave him his walking papers last Sunday night and told him to get out. She was more in love with this "pretty-boy lawyer" than with him. She's apparently getting the house and one of their cars. Shit like that just isn't right. :-/
He could barely eat because he was still recovering from a car accident. He was still on his first piece of toast in the time it took me to pay my bill, use the bathroom, collect my box of food, break the ten I had for two fives, and finally come back for the album. The man was a wreck. He had his hopes though. Drunk, but still hopeful. Good for him, you know? You need to have something to hang on to, just to get you through the week. He said one thing that stuck with me, though: "Only love can truly hurt you. Everything else is just so much more bullshit."
I gave him ten bucks for the album and told him to have a good night before I left.
That fresh air did me good, by the way.
I ate my sandwich and as I was about half done a fairly drunk gentleman walked in who was apparently a regular. He had a few records under his arm, and after the waitress took his order, he asked if she'd like to buy one. She turned him down sayings she only had a tape player. I was just finishing up, and had meant to ask what he had anyway, when he turned to me and asked if I wanted to buy one. He had a couple I didn't know, but what caught my eye was a Bruce Springstein album. It was pretty much in perfect condition, original cover, liner notes, all of it.
So, I asked him how much he'd want for it. I've been trying to find something for my dad's 50th and that's why I was interested. He doesn't listen to records much anymore, unfortunately, but he's a big Boss fan. The man told me he was going to try selling them to a couple people for six dollars a piece or two for ten bucks. I didn't really have to think about it because I knew it would make a good present, but I feigned because for some reason I wanted to talk to him. He was probably exuding that aura that people have when they just want someone to talk to. I'm pretty familiar with that, and pick up on it even if I don't realize it.
So we talked for awhile while his food was being cooked. The poor guy's wife left him for a lawyer after he'd worked his ass off for twenty years to pay off their house. He'd moved her out of her alkie dad's garage on the south side in a decent apartment, found a perfect house in a nice neighborhood, and bought it up right away. She hadn't wanted any kids, so it was just the two of them living together in harmony for twenty years. Twenty years, man. She gave him his walking papers last Sunday night and told him to get out. She was more in love with this "pretty-boy lawyer" than with him. She's apparently getting the house and one of their cars. Shit like that just isn't right. :-/
He could barely eat because he was still recovering from a car accident. He was still on his first piece of toast in the time it took me to pay my bill, use the bathroom, collect my box of food, break the ten I had for two fives, and finally come back for the album. The man was a wreck. He had his hopes though. Drunk, but still hopeful. Good for him, you know? You need to have something to hang on to, just to get you through the week. He said one thing that stuck with me, though: "Only love can truly hurt you. Everything else is just so much more bullshit."
I gave him ten bucks for the album and told him to have a good night before I left.
That fresh air did me good, by the way.
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Nice to see people have a good heart such as yourself.
Very true and i agree with zizilia men can be asshole women can be bitches, the sad thing is that they usually end up hurting the few decent people left on earth!!!