A Bird Named Moe 2
The door in the dining room was swinging back and forth. I thought I caught someone's foot just as the person to whom it was attached exited the restaurant, but I also thought I was seeing spots all along the far wall where the man's head was resting.
Just to be sure, I ambled over to the door, past the other patrons of the restaurant, none of whom were eating, all of whom were looking at me. I figured I couldn't panic, otherwise there'd be a scene. No, so long as I held it together I figured everyone else would remain pretty calm and we'd be able to clean up the mess at the corner table. And then get the hell out of that job.
No one wants to work in a place where there's a good risk of you getting killed, do they? Especially not in such an ignoble way as this poor guy, either.
At the door I gave one last cool, calm look across the dining room, and it dawned on me that I could bolt, if I wanted to. I could get to my car before most of these people had time to leap from their seats and get to their own, causing a massive mini traffic jam in the parking lot and onto the adjoining boulevards. I could be away and free, riding like Dustin Hoffman and Edie Brickel in Midnight Riders, wind in my hair and sun on my face...
I caught the door on one of its last inswings (and was its last inswing, after I'd caught it) and held it open.
I gave one last smile back at the patrons before stepping through, slightly.
And heard a very loud crunch, and the tinkling of glass through the wrought iron bars that made up the landing onto which this particular door opened.
The thing that had been keeping the door swinging was a small glass bird, with a certain amount of liquid in a little bulb where the bottom of the bird would be. Before it was crunched underfoot the bird had been bobbin up and down, the tip of its head nudging against the door on the downswing, which would cause the door to swing in, and then the door's hinges would take over and, upon reaching the point that a whole lot of physics determined was appropriate, would swing back, just in time to hit the bird again, which would be on the downswing, and would push the door right back the other way.
This sort of thing just didn't happen. Okay, we'd get pranksters, but they'd usually stick to writing in ketchup on the walls. They'd usually write clever things like "I LIKE CATSUP," which was probably because all our ketchup packets and bottles had ketchup spelled K-E-T-C-H-U-P and not C-A-T-S-U-P. Or they'd carve stuff into the tables with dinner knives. Actually, a couple of them carved "I LIKE CATSUP" into the tables as well. They didn't show any real high degree of imagination, I have to say. Harmless pranks, though. The only time they ever got accused of anything more serious was when Fred tried to blame the smell in his car on them... but then that explanation was only given to his girlfriend, and she didn't buy it for very long.
They weren't dating any more, if you're interested. Not that it's like I'm declaring it open season on Fred. I'm not. And it's not like that would be such a great open season to declare. But they had split up. Fred was also nicknamed "The Cheap Ba***rd," which didn't go over too well with her.
The thing that got me to look up from the smashed glass bird was the sound of squealing tires, out in the parking lot, and a honking horn out on Route 31.
To be continued.... ?
disclaimer:
This issue was not interrupted with anyone asking the writer to do laundry, for which he is forever indebted.
That fact that he got dinner and tea served without lifting a finger (lifting a finger in the purpose of serving dinner or tea, that is, plenty of fingers were lifted in the typing and general arsein' around that goes into making an issue happen each week) is also cause for indebtitude.
That and a lot more. Thanks, babe.
No lemurs were hurt in the making of this issue, though they could be hurt by this issue, so please do not leave lemurs too close to the issue. This is the same sort of rule of thumb you want to follow for oily rags and the boiler. Don't leave them near each other.
And, since the rags are lighter, if they do happen to be near each other, move the rags first, before you attempt to move the boiler.
In our case of lemurs and this issue, move the lemur first, unless they've not had a proper night's sleep and are a bit cranky. And even then wait until they get a little more sleepy and move them first, as no one knows quite how heavy a website is.
Good evening to you.