Monday, January 6, 2014

Why I Write...



Every life is a story. Each event a chapter. For example, study the picture below...


The elderly gentlemen toward the front left looks to either have a smile or grimace on his face. Or maybe...he forgot his shades and the sun is in his eyes. What's his story? The guy slightly behind and to the right of the elderly man has his head turned and his gait is wide. Is he looking to see if someone is following him? Avoiding a familiar face in the crowd? Does he look suspicious...or simply scratching his neck?

 Every life has a story. Or...if you're a storyteller, you can develop one. I find I do a little of both. Whether in the grocery store, Wal-Mart or the food court at the mall, I often watch (not stalk… observe) people and wonder what their life is like. Sometimes I have started conversations with people who have piqued my curiosity. 

 Rich and I often frequent Barry's Pizza. The food is good, the waitstaff superb and the customers rather friendly. Kind of a Cheers setting with their own cast of regular (Norm, Cliff, Frazier) characters sitting around the bar area.


Three or four times I have noticed a woman, a-hem, about my age, very well dressed, sipping a glass of red wine and sitting in the exact same booth (back to a wall) every time I've seen her. The entire waitstaff, including the managers, at some point stop to talk to her, which seems to include a lot of light and fun-filled conversation. I've often wondered...what's her story?

I decided she must be Barry's mother...although I have never met Barry, therefore, have no clue as to Barry's age. But that's the story I went with. For grins, I'm inserting a couple pictures of Barry's Pizza. 



Last Friday night, Rich and I happened to be seated at a table adjacent to "her" booth...and yes, she was there. After our meal, we boxed up the last two slices of pizza and put on our jackets. I grabbed my purse and heard her say something. I looked up and found Barry's "mother" smiling at me.

Rich was more than ready to leave and much to his chagrin (although over the years he has learned to tolerate my sometimes weird behavior), I walked over to her booth. She smiled and said, "don't forget your pizza." I sat down beside her and told her we'd seen her forever in here and I assumed she must be Barry's mother, which caused her to laugh. Her comment, "Barry will get a kick out of that one."

 She said she's noticed us frequently there also. We started a conversation, causing Rich to pat his foot, make an unnecessary trip to the restroom and then start messing with his iPhone. If he hadn't already had his quota of Diet Coke for the evening, I'm sure he would have ordered another, just to have something to do.


What I found out in a very short period of time:

·         She’s a business woman

·         Not Barry’s mother

·         Had a recent health scare and without divulging much more, she just found out today everything turned out great. Her next sentence, “I just needed to tell someone!”

I’m glad I could be that someone. I made a new friend…



Curiosity and observation are two main factors as to why I write. And for those of you familiar with Saving Gracie and Partly Sunny, know I’m particular fond of writing about relationships. They fascinate me… 

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