I was Dish Pig, my lot to scrape, wash, polish, repeat. No customer interaction for me, save for pouring Mr. Evans’s Guinness pint.
Only Sharks and Punks
Joe told me that they chained him to a hospital bed so he wouldn’t escape. Flight risk. Young male. Tested positive for COVID-19. It seemed so unlikely. What were the chances? And that’s when I realized that they were pretty high.
A Blemish In My Love Affair With New York City
We wandered the city heading towards Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas tree
While I carried my ancient 35mm Voigtlander stopping frequently to take pictures
When I spotted my only wealthy relatives across the street
The Grass Is Always Greener
Henry had heard that dinners at Porter’s College were always a pleasant affair, but it seemed that he had somehow misunderstood the fundamental definition of ‘pleasant’.
He stepped onto the rink but hung onto the low hockey wall till his feet remembered what to do. Over the speaker a voice announced the next number was a jam, so join or stay out of the way. A string of guys formed, like segments of some enormous caterpillar. They leaned into the center on the turns, every step a lunge forward on the beat to “Move It” led by this amazing looking guy in Rasta dreads, shiny green shirt, and jeans plastered on.