beer

One Stone Stands Out

Three o'clock on this Memorial Day afternoon, I'm having a beer in the Queen of Hearts. It's a neighborhood bar across the street from the community center where Eugene and I used to go swimming three or four times a week. One time I even got him to take a yoga class with me, but since he was the only male in the class, he swore he'd never do it again. To be truthful, I used to think this bar was a strip club, and it's certainly not the kind of place I would normally frequent, but today is my Red Letter Day so anything is possible for me.

Why buy me a beer?

If I were a musician, I could take my guitar or oboe or didgeridoo down to the Saturday Market and play and sing for you. You might applaud my feeble attempts and throw some spare change into the coffee can at my feet.

If I made triple scented candles from 100% natural, environmentally friendly, USA grown soy beans, then I might put up a website and for ten dollars sell you some light to brighten a dark, winter's night.

Syndicate content