the cocktail hour just ended. it lasted a lot more than an hour. i think the mayor may be a tad eccentric. i arrived maybe two minutes late and the mayor was so insulted that he started hysterically crying. all the other guests were trying to console him as they gave dirty looks to me and my companion.
i met my companion in a cozy tavern called
the small italian midwife. it had a strange atmosphere. upon entering the place my eyes had to adjust to how dimly it was lit. it was dusty and depressing looking with lots of stained glass, much of which was broken causing the light from the candles to flicker in a curious way over all the shapes occupying the space which could be people or furniture and required closer inspection to discover which. when my eyes finally adjusted to the complete lack of effulgence, i could start to make out which shapes were animate and which were not, and i'll tell you the animate ones were not pleasant to look at. these beings seemed to be as dusty as the furniture as if they had not moved in years. i soon realized the reason for this was not that they had all been inert for months on end, but that the dust was carefully applied to any customer who walked in the place, as this was being done to me right then. upon finishing the job, the little man who covered me with the dust waited and just looked at me expectantly. it only took me a moment to realize he was waiting for his tip and to avoid confrontation on my first visit to
the midwife, i went along with it and gave him a crumpled wet dollar from my satchel. i forgot to mention earlier that i had purchased a satchel from a street vendor. as i made my way to the bar i could feel cold, vicious stares burning into the back of me, even when i had finally settled into an unoccupied stool. every so often i would quickly spin around to try to catch the evil glares but every time each patron in the place would be looking at me with the biggest, most exaggeratedly friendly smiles i had ever seen. sometimes one might do a quick fingers only, under the chin wave, or wink or whatever. it was like a big game to them. i kept trying to catch them but their timing was impeccable, not to mention their teamwork. i soon gave up this game because the bar-man was threatening to cut me if i didn't order something right away. i could understand how he would be irritated as this game had been going on for some time. i told him to just give me whatever the house specialty was. it turned out to be something called a "cranky mongo" and it could be the worst drink i've ever tasted. i didn't ask what was in it, but to give you an idea of how displeasing it was i'll tell you it was garnished with rotten, overcooked broccolli. i finished it down so as not to be rude and ordered a dark rum and started scanning the place for a companion to bring to the mayor's
big thing. i wanted to make a good impression on the mayor so i decided to get the worst and most vile person out of the whole group to make me look great by comparison. i ended up inviting this short waitress with cold sores all over her mouth. she was dressed like a cub scout.
so when the mayor suddenly stopped crying and started singing this terribly filthy and rollicking sea shanty with his upside down wife and all the other guests, we felt more comfortable and the cocktail party began.
now it's time for dinner.
