Sunday May 15th, 2016

The exercise:

Write about: the man about town.

Finished weeding one section of blackberries this morning and managed to mulch half of it as well. Hoping to get that done before strawberries fully take over my farm time.

Spent the afternoon with Max, mostly in town. Had a quick visit to the park but had to get back home for dinner prep so we couldn't linger as long as he would have liked.

Well, if we had stayed as long as he wanted we might still be there now.

After both boys were asleep this evening I stopped thinking about shaving and actually, factually shaved. If I could choose to stop growing facial hair I would do so without hesitation.

Mine:

"Good evening. Can I pour you a drink?"

"No, thank you. I was hoping you could tell me where I could find Mr. Bishop."

"Sorry ma'am, he left nearly two hours ago."

"What? He asked me to meet him here just this afternoon!"

"Yeah, Mr. B can be like that sometimes."

"Like what, exactly?"

"Oh, you know, always having to be at the most happening place in town. I guess while he was here he caught wind of a new club having its grand opening tonight."

"And where might that be?"

"You know where Creekside meets Dunbar? On the east side?"

"So I'll find him there then?"

"... I wouldn't count on it. Maybe you should let me pour you that drink now."

3 Comments:

morganna said...

Dressed for
The evening at
Eleven am, he
Strolls downtown checking out windows
Tapping his cane, no one will know he lives
In one room in the cheap place, his
Stomach is growling 'cause
Food costs too much
To eat.

Greg said...

@Morganna: The gradual revelation of the sham is very nicely done and the image you paint is so easy to imagine! I was practically tapping my cane myself as I read, at least until I reached the last line :) And re-reading I realised that the third line is actually very subtle and a well-placed indicator of what you're up to that I missed utterly until I re-read.

@Marc: Congratulations! Your seasonal shave is now complete, and you win points! Prizes! Other things beginning with the letter 'P'! (Well, Pimples, since you ask.)
Mr. B sounds like a difficult man to keep up with, though chasing him across town sounds like it could be a lot of fun. And expensive. But a lot of fun! The dialogue style here works really well and the voices are distinct enough that it's easy to keep track of who is speaking. Letting the characters speak for themselves is something you're strong at.

Since you asked for a continuation of this I thought I might oblige.

Man about town
At a pavement table outside a café at Farringdon station a young man sat down at an empty table and set his snowboard case on the ground next to his chair. It was half unzipped, and an ironing board could be seen inside it. He was wearing shorts despite the cold, and his hairy legs were visibly goose-pimpled across his thighs, and he had a bandanna wrapped around the lower part of his face. As he relaxed into the chair, the wickerwork creaked like an old tree in a high wind.
"Painkiller?" A little brown plastic bottle of pills rattled as it was slapped down on the table. The young man looked up and met the eyes of a slightly older man with a quirky smile and one hand held protectively across his stomach.
"Thanks," said the young man, "but I'm on something I can't pronounce that the doctor said would blissfully kill me if I took too many. I'm Kev."
A hand was extended and shaken. "Simon," said the older man. He sat down and winced. "That woman got me right in the solar plexus. But you looked worse off with that courier."
"The bike wasn't so bad," said Kev with a rueful smile. "The wheels missed me and it was only really the handlebars that hit me; bruised a rib I think. But then the courier pulled out this tyre iron thing and started beating me and shouting. If the taxi hadn't hit him as well I think I'd be in hospital now."
"Not really my doing," said Simon shrugging. "The bitch tried to storm the cab and hit the taxi driver in the head with that damn umbrella in the process and he hit the accelerator and twisted the wheel in the process... well, it was all a bit of a farce really."
"I'll laugh when the pain goes away," said Kev. "Right now even smiling is a bit too much effort."
There was a momentary silence.
"Coffee?" asked Simon.
"Americano, no milk, no sugar, please."
When Simon returned with the order he smiled pleasantly and said, "So, the ironing board in your bag?"
"I need to do some ironing," said Kev.

Marc said...

Morganna - a beautifully captured charade. Really nice work here.

Greg - hah, yeah, it's about four times a year, isn't it? Well, thank you for the points and prizes - I'll pass on the pimples though.

And I thank you for the continuation! It did not disappoint :D