Chapter One

Today I went to a restaurant for dinner. They were supposed to have very good ribs. In the parking lot, there was a very old man. I suspect he was crazy. He happened to be standing right in front of the space that I was going to take. When he realized - by some sixth sense - that I was intending to eventually put my car into the space on the other side of him, he stopped walking, very deliberately. Then he turned around and stared at me. He had a bit of a hunch and the most unidentifiable light in his eyes. I suspect he was crazy. Our eyes met, and he didn't turn back around and start walking again until moments later, and only after I looked away first. He went into the same restaurant as I intended. I proceeded without deterrence.

The restaurant was full of characters. Very interesting looking people. The word would probably be red neck. Most of the people were old. Old red necks. Most of the men were fat. The only women were waitresses or with their husbands. They all had rings; I checked; I'm not making presumptions. I ordered the ribs with a Cajun sauce. I could have ordered anything, but food is food. So whatever.

They started playing music. The first song was Yankee Doddle. You know the song: "Yankee Doodle went to town, riding on a pony." I swear to God they played Yankee Doodle. Really, really loud. Next on the playlist was Mary Had a Little Lamb. The rest of the music was country and techno-country. Something in me would have died, but it died in my company first. I had company; maybe I forgot to mention. (And I wasn't driving either, in case you were wondering.) My company has a history of complaining to managers when the music in a restaurant is too loud. I thought they were going to. But they didn't. I got the feeling that they didn't want to bother the rest of the restaurant. It was really almost a pub. Kinda. I can't imagine why they were shy. The people inside looked very agreeable. What with the three empty mugs at 4 in the afternoon.

Nota: It seems this is trying to write itself about me. I shall resist once more, but give in to futility if futile resisting is.