While visiting another city about 40 miles up the road from where I live, I had to wait for an hour to see a man I wanted to talk to about business.
I went next door to one of those hoity-toity coffee shops. I'd never been in one before. They were apparently upset that I just wanted a simple, good, cup of coffee; not one that was a work of art, or made from beans imported from the red sands of Mars or some-such, just a good cuppa joe. Eventually I convinced them and got what I wanted.
As I turned from the counter, I could see that there was only one table occupied. An elderly man, about my age sat all alone with his cup of coffee placed squarely in front of him as though it were his passport and allowed him to be in this alien land.
I walked over to him, smiled and said, “Since this place is so crowded, do you mind if I sit here?”
He nodded and waved his hand at the seat opposite him. I sat down. For the next hour he and I exchanged words over our coffees – we both had two more – and if I told you now what we said, I'd be lying. I don't remember a bit of it. It was just social blather. The kind that us older folks are quite skilled at because we didn't have electronic gadgets attached to us like some kind of Borg creatures as we grew up.
It was the most pleasant hour of my last three weeks. I may not remember what was said, but I'll never forget what was communicated.
I have a new friend. I may never see him again but I know for certain that he is my friend forever. And I his.
Larry Lawson is a retired real estate investor/speculator. He was, for a time, the editor-publisher of Seniors Alive! Newsletter. He divides his time between Prince Edward Island and the Okanagan Valley of B.C., where he winters. He blogs about anything that takes his fancy: a lot of socio/economic/political topics, some poetry, and the odd short story. He even throws in a few jokes now and then. You can find him on Open Salon.blog comments powered by Disqus