I met this bloke, Michael, and his friend by fluke.
I’d popped into the Harbor Pub to see if Barclay Wagner, my dad’s old friend from Fiji days, was around. BW likes his drink and conducts most of his business meetings at the pub. It’s a two-birds-one-stone kinda thing.
Michael introduces his friend, Randy, as a modeler turned (kitchen) remodeler. I laugh. They look pleased, as only men can when they think they’ve inched closer to what seems to be at the forefront of their mind most of the time.
We get to talking while watching the end of a football game. It’s late afternoon and the boys have been drinking since ten o’clock that morning. I’m uncertain whether that (useless) bit of information is meant to impress me.
Before the game is over, it occurs to me that Randy looks rather like George Clooney. Telling someone he resembles someone, no matter whom, can be a tricky business, so I’m a little apprehensive when I venture, “You know, you look a bit like George Clooney.”
Randy looks at me and says, “If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I’d be a rich man.” I relax, relieved. Then he adds, “But I think I’m better looking than Clooney.”
“Let’s not get carried away now,” I say. I can’t help it, it just comes out automatically. Luckily, Randy doesn’t appear to get it. They’ve been drinking since ten, after all.
- Thursday, 27 September 2012 @ Harbor Pub
Yesss, Maaaamm…, I’b ony had tee martoonys an’ the drunker I stan’ here the longer I get… Did the conversation sound anything like this? How ya doin’ G?
Paul
No, they weren’t that bad, actually. Years of practice, no doubt.
I’m doing fine, thanks, Papa Bear. (Giggle).
G
He’s quite full of himself, isn’t he?
Very! A bit of humility would have made him more attractive to me.
G