i'm sitting in yet another coffeehouse, this one in my neighborhood. nice enough place. small. it's right next to a ballet center, so once the class gets out, the little girls and their mothers gather at the small coffeehouse.
so it's, in a word, LOUD.
not sure if i'm going back there.
aaanyways, i'm sitting there in one of the quiet moments, and i see an old man putter to us in one of those motorized wheelchairs/scooters. i couldn't take my eyes off the guy as he drove across the street because he was sitting side saddle - which, i gotta say, i've never seen before. then again, he had to, since he had a bucket of what looked like junk set in front of him.
he finally made it to the front door, which was closed, and being the fine gentleman i am, i opened it for him.
"why thank you sir," he said.
"no problem," i replied as i turn around to sit down.
"hey, the name's dale condry, and i've got a fantastic opportunity for you". he offered me his hand. his nails were the size of bottlecaps.
"sir, i don't work..."
"licorice soda!"
"what?"
"what i'm offering you and your establishment is a chance to sell licorice soda at a discount price. i've got a brochure here - it's got some writing on it so please, overlook that, but it's the last one i got - but it's gonna be the hit of the century, i tell ya."
"sir, i don't work here."
"oh...you don't."
"nah. i'm a customer".
"oh...well, can you point me to the big man of the house?"
i looked at the woman behind the counter. she ducked down to avoid him. "yeah, she's hiding over there."
he scooted over to her. ""hey, the name's dale condry, and i've got a fantastic opportunity for you. what i'm offering you and your establishment is a chance to sell licorice soda at a discount price. i've got a..."
of course, she wasn't interested. so the old man scooted out the door - and into the ballet center.
so to recap: old man. nails like bottlecaps. scooter. side saddle. licorice soda, whatever that is.
thank you, jesus.
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