table for one
There is a Subway sandwich shop on the dog walk route. It does probably the best business of any shop on the walk. There are often people there. Probably that makes the people at the new Pan Asian restaurant next door insane. They do not have a lot of business yet and I worry about them. The men who operate that restaurant are very nice and like dogs and I wish they had more business.
A man used to eat at Subway every night. An older man. I am bad at ages but he was probably a hard worn fifty-something or sort of worn sixty-something. He had thick white hair and one of those larger than life Irish faces you expect to see on a cop in a movie. His nose and cheeks had that broken out red that usually means a life affair with Irish whiskey.
Every night at six the dogs and I would walk past Subway. And every night at six he would be there. At a table for one. In the window. Eating his sandwich.
Or, if we were early, he would be walking to Subway. Passing us on his way in.
I think the Irish man had diabetes or Parkinsons. His feet were not good. So he walked slowly. Carefully. With that walk older people with bad toes have. That careful, do not lift your foot too high off the ground walk.
And every night at six he was there.
At a table for one.
And then one night he was gone.
I have never seen the Irish man again.
9 Responses to table for one
I love this post. Such an element of mystery is imparts….what do you think happened to the man? Death? Quiznos? He fell off a pier? Food poisoning?
BTW, I don’t like this business of an Asian restaurant next door to the dog hang out lol
Be cautious of one who offers to Wok your Dog lol
Wok your dog? LOL — You are very bad.
In my version of the story the Irishman met a sassy widow and never ate alone again. I am all about happy endings.
Happy endings? Heehee that’s Asian slang for – Oh, never mind!
That is not Asian that is street slang for massage parlour flourishes. Jeez. No more Vanity Fair for you.
I think he discovered 29c hamburger day in Vegas and hitched it there.
P.S Where he met a retired showgirl, Doris, and spent the rest of his days downing 29c hamburgers and dancing the polka at Stardust.
Oh that is a good happy ending too. Yay!
Wait, Stilletto is losing it. Um. Happily. Ever. After.
There. All fixed. Yay!
I think he’s a mobster who had to flee town after doing a hit. hahaha hey, the guy he killed was probably really bad. Now that’s a happy ending, no?