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The Narrow Escape
The Narrow Escape
Back in March, I attended six days of training in Bellingham. I stayed in a Best Western that had a popular little lounge and grill with an assorted cast of characters, both local and visiting.. Several nights during the week, I ventured downstairs for swim and workout. Next, I began an attempt at a social renaissance. Armed with a good book, a passion for people watching and my debit card, I wandered to the bar & grill and ordered the first of two Tom Collins. The whole idea was to avoid being alone in my hotel room.
By the third night, I had established a respectable little routine and had read nearly half of an environmental novel. Early in my second drink, a diminutive troll of a woman entered the room and sat right next to me. I will give her this much, she tried to clean herself up for a night out, but clearly she was out of place in this establishment. She wore decent pair of jeans but couldn’t have weighed more than 90 pounds and had the facial physique of a veteran meth-head. What is worse is that the other forty empty chairs didn’t call her name.
I nodded a greeting but she didn’t utter a word. The bartender inquired to her preference in an adult beverage, she was still silent and spooky. After three attempts from the bartender in an equal number of minutes, there was just a blank stare as a response. It was getting scary. Finally, she looked at me and uttered the words “You buy me a drink”? Only the three of us could hear them, but I wondered how many of the dozen or so patrons in the establishment were taking in this little drama?
I quickly responded in a very matter of fact manner “No, I am not going to buy you a drink” as if she were a school girl.
Once she bought herself her own drink, I quickly finished mine and made flight. The sad thing is that if she had any ability to communicate, I probably would have purchased a beverage for her just for the female company. I certainly wouldn’t have invited her to my room, but sometimes even bad female company is good.