Last night, after working on my research paper for a couple of hours. I decided to step out and stretch my legs a bit.
The only two establishments open were the liquor store and a bar located in the Fort, a shopping center in the middle of town which roughly resembles a fort.
In an attempt to spice this post up, I thought about going fishing for an adventure by engaging some of the local rowdies carousing at the bar, but my brief tenure in law enforcement left me with very little patience for that kind of scene. I don't find drunks interesting or funny anymore.
The trash can at Village Market was overflowing. They do not run a tight ship over there.
As I was walking past Jo-Ann's, a restaurant/bar located in the middle of town, I found this glass, which I presume had been left there by a patron earlier in the day. As I picked up the glass the weight and shape of it pleased me, and I decided to take it home and give it an exalted place among my cups.
Walking a little further I found this lonely shopping cart on the side of the road several hundred feet from its home outside of Fairway Market. I decided to right this wrong and return it to its proper place.
I'm a law and order kind of guy.
However, on the way across the parking lot I kept finding other abandoned carts. By the time I reached Fairway I had no fewer than seven carts in my train. The town at that time of night is as quiet as the moon, and the racket of the carts rumbling across the empty parking lot seemed unnatural and wrong.
After setting things right over at the Strawberry Creek Shopping Plaza parking lot I set a course for home, which took me back past Jo-Ann's again. As I was walking past, I noticed there were still some employees moving around inside, and I began debating whether or not I should return the cup I had found. In the short time I had possessed the cup I had truly fallen in love with it. It was perfectly weighted, well-balanced, and large enough to hold a substantial amount of diet pepsi, but ultimately my conscience would not allow me to walk by without returning it to its rightful owners.
I knocked on the door, but they wisely refused to answer the summons of a strange man in the middle of the night.
Goodbye sweet chalice. My lips will never know you.
Before heading up to the house, my bed, and slumbering household I sat on the deck of the camp's Ice Cream Parlor for a while. It was a beautiful night, and I was just enjoying being out in it. The cool night air was refreshing after the hot dusty day, and the exciting tang of wood smoke was drifting over from the campsites at the State Park next door. I love that smell.
Last night, after working on my research paper for a couple of hours. I decided to step out and stretch my legs a bit.
The only two establishments open were the liquor store and a bar located in the Fort, a shopping center in the middle of town which roughly resembles a fort.
In an attempt to spice this post up, I thought about going fishing for an adventure by engaging some of the local rowdies carousing at the bar, but my brief tenure in law enforcement left me with very little patience for that kind of scene. I don't find drunks interesting or funny anymore.
The trash can at Village Market was overflowing. They do not run a tight ship over there.
As I was walking past Jo-Ann's, a restaurant/bar located in the middle of town, I found this glass, which I presume had been left there by a patron earlier in the day. As I picked up the glass the weight and shape of it pleased me, and I decided to take it home and give it an exalted place among my cups.
Walking a little further I found this lonely shopping cart on the side of the road several hundred feet from its home outside of Fairway Market. I decided to right this wrong and return it to its proper place.
I'm a law and order kind of guy.
However, on the way across the parking lot I kept finding other abandoned carts. By the time I reached Fairway I had no fewer than seven carts in my train. The town at that time of night is as quiet as the moon, and the racket of the carts rumbling across the empty parking lot seemed unnatural and wrong.
After setting things right over at the Strawberry Creek Shopping Plaza parking lot I set a course for home, which took me back past Jo-Ann's again. As I was walking past, I noticed there were still some employees moving around inside, and I began debating whether or not I should return the cup I had found. In the short time I had possessed the cup I had truly fallen in love with it. It was perfectly weighted, well-balanced, and large enough to hold a substantial amount of diet pepsi, but ultimately my conscience would not allow me to walk by without returning it to its rightful owners.
I knocked on the door, but they wisely refused to answer the summons of a strange man in the middle of the night.
Goodbye sweet chalice. My lips will never know you.
Before heading up to the house, my bed, and slumbering household I sat on the deck of the camp's Ice Cream Parlor for a while. It was a beautiful night, and I was just enjoying being out in it. The cool night air was refreshing after the hot dusty day, and the exciting tang of wood smoke was drifting over from the campsites at the State Park next door. I love that smell. 
4 comments:
your face is so naked!!
A law and order type of guy: as you fully intended to take home a cup you knew was not yours, nor was the cup homeless. Thankfully you were convicted before completing your crime.
And the image of you, walking thru the parking lot with all those carts, in the dead of night is a little bit eery. Reason unclear.
Who takes the pictures when you go on these excursions?
7 carts in your chain. No fewer than. I love that part.
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