Man, Oh Man

Tonight I have to wait.  Several hours of sitting after the last client and before I meet a child to escort home from lectures late in the evening.  I am sitting in a street cafe- in the eastern suburbs- a bit fashionable- near where we must meet.  I ate a large genuine Italian pizza for tea, along with a Coopers Pale Ale.  I sat and watch people a while, wrote a bit, and then ordered strawberry cheesecake, another beer, and black coffee.

Twenty six dollars for tea- all spent on me.

An interesting little Methodist lad.  How much I have grown from being a good boy, almost puritan, too hard working!  Imagine! Sitting in a cafe on the street side!  Drinking beer!

But will I manage the next hour too? Or will I flee to her college library and work- study another chapter, write another report for a client?  What strange beings we men are!  My wife might well find a comfortable place, open a book, and have to be roused by her impatient teenager indignant at the prospect of missing the bus and train... she might be on time... she might be late.  

But I will be early, and working.


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