Hemingway and Me

Seated at the table to my right:

a sociable business lunch—the men

loud, full of verbal bravado,

the women covertly flirtatious

except for one woman who

ate quietly, staring at her plate.

No promotion in sight for her.

 

Two people behind me were

talking in stage whispers so you

know they are conversing,

but not exactly about what.

I think they were discussing

how to make Jello.

For chrissakes, I coulda told them

boil some water, add the Jello mix,

stick it in the refrigerator.

I’d like to think they were really

discussing Jello wrestling.

 

Four older ladies in front of my booth

divided their bill and got up to leave.

One of them turned and looked at me.

“You look so lonely,” she said and I

answered “What are you suggesting?”

She laughed. Two of her companions

sort of snorted (I think they were very

close companions). “You should mind

your own business, Alice,” said the

woman next to her.

Shook my head no, smiled.

Alice needed her three friends

for a quorum of a relationship.

All I required was an interesting book.

You don’t get lonely reading Hemingway.