Today (Thursday) I was sitting outside Sweet Pea Cafe waiting for my to-go lunch to be delivered. As is my custom, I perched on the end of a picnic bench and read while I waited.
A sound startled me and I quickly looked up and to my right, where less than 50 yards away traffic was flowing up and down Tharpe Street. Somehow my brain got the impression that I was in jeopardy of falling off the bench, and I yelped.
The only other customer, sitting well over six feet away from me, looked up at my exclamation, ready to come to my defense. I smiled beneath my mask, shrugged and said, “I thought I was falling off the bench.”
He looked at me and where I was sitting, held up his thumb and forefinger and said, “You were this close.”
We both laughed. He cautioned me to be extra careful before taking his meal. I told him there were no guarantees. Again he made that sign with his fingers.
I wonder if there’s a way to make money for all the entertainment I provide? Probably not.