Christmas Day

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The Bagel Barn

We had avoided this place before, an obvious hangout of English speaking travelers, but it was the only place open. I loved hearing the great 70’s background music….until I realized it was just eight tunes, endlessly recycled. One menu item was the Bohemian Breakfast: a bagel, cream cheese, egg scram, “plus your choice of a cigarette or a multivitamin.” We ordered. We leafed through a discarded newspaper. Coffee prices were down.

That’s when I saw Her. Alone at a table, the weary sophistication of a world traveler, legs crossed, large brown eyes, straight slight bangs, really rather attractive in a horsey sort of way. And she saw me. A warm smile spread across her face like lard melting in a skillet. Her eyes held mine, steady and interested, a look that a man knows could only mean, “Fifty dollars. Firm.” I looked away.

While Maureen ordered a second bagel with a different flavor of cream cheese, I was intrigued, stirred, and enchanted. Not by cream cheese. I looked back.

She looked up. “OK, forty. Christmas is slow.”

What kind of trailer trash did she think I was? Was I? I

leafed through the paper, now with purpose. Ummm, textile exports were up. I looked again.

“Twenty? And I’ll take a shower.”

Maureen’s eyes narrowed. She turned slightly toward where I had been peeking. Mo’s glance snapped Her up like a bird plucking an insect from the grass. “Are we done here?” she asked, her tongue frosted with ice. We were done here.

As we left, I felt I owed Her one last look back, just to honor all that we had shared together.

“Smart move, pal. Not enough penicillin in this town anyway.”

I turned into a pillar of salt.

The Penguin Joke

Back at the hostel, we could check our email. Mo's computer battery only lasts an hour and finding a three way plug to recharge was always a project, so we were glad they had one. And then it only charges when the screen is at an acute angle to the keyboard. Also the " " key doesn't work.

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Photos

The Bagel Barn
Gringos fresh out of language school, practicing bad Spanish.

The Penguin Joke
After she told me The Penguin Joke, originating, as all jokes do, with Sam, I laughed so hard for five minutes that she took a photo.

Comments

[Marcia Billings]

Okay, so what's the penguin joke?