Port

This evening i returned to my favorite bar (ha!) after a few months, this time with my newly acquired netbook.

(I'd link this post to when i last blogged about the joint, but then i'd lose anonymity.)

Composing a long-ass email to Denisse while sipping Mondavi cab took patheticity out of the equation of being at the bar alone.

Patheticity is not a word : )

I sat by the window, bathing in every last ray of the setting sun. Natural light is the best!

Lana*, my favorite waitress, whom i've always found attractive, is pregnant. I was shocked. At first i didn't recognize her. She was every bit as beautiful. But different.

Taylor confirms, and writes:

Pregnancies are so hopeful... The propagation of life...

The comment saddened me. I who is unfit to be a parent, who will never give another human being the joy of being a parent.

I who is unfit, period.

When i was proofreading my email for the 5th time, Lana came to bus the table next to me. A couple had come, seen, eaten, and departed, and i was still there.

"Did you get all the work you needed done?" Asked Lana.

I was caught off guard. "Work"? Oh, i could see how i could come across in my business attire with my serious expression.

Pointless to state i was only composing a long-ass email. I proceeded to ask how far along she was. Just as i thought, she was about to pop. In less than two months.

I'm still amazed she remembers me. Flattered, really. She is one hot mama! And now, literally.

As i was leaving, i told Lana to take care. "See you again soon!" She smiled.

I'd like to believe she meant it. She strikes me as real. Real simply doesn't come along often enough.


*Not her real name