|a table not next to the wood stove|
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Down in the West Texas town of El Paso, where I was drinking a Dr. Pepper.
You sat at a table placed next to the wood stove, and asked, "What do you think on a day like today?"
Thinking that this was the espionage pass phrase
I had been waiting for I answered thus, "Like the tide when the moon is leaving the seaside, your hair line, though dark is receding."
You started to jump up in umbrage proclaiming, "That is the rudest thing I've heard all day!"
Apprehending your meaning was not based in spying,
I tried to leave quietly, out the back door.
The waitress, though cute, had no patience with vagrants however they looked.
She brought a bouncer, bounced me back to the cashier. I was embarrassed and red.
This was not the unobtrusive meeting my handler had said.
And you were astonied, as they tossed me out, muttering, "I just bet he listens to old rock and roll five times a week if not daily!
We never saw each other again until, ironically, I was checking meal tickets and collecting lunch money at the serving line entrance in an El Cajon campus. Mostly unobtrusively, but without any espionage to keep me warm.