Our Time Fourplay boardgames review blog is almost up! Will spend December getting some articles written, and get them published soon. Hopefully through this blog, we will be able to introduce people to a wonderful hobby that they can share with their loved ones and friends.

Do support us at  http://timefourplay.blogspot.com/

See you there!

Domani, 30 novembre 2009, comincierà il tradizionale Canto Della Stella.

There isn’t anything better than J. Crew (I mean, have you seen Mrs. Obama’s sequined leopard print cardigan?!? SO CUTE!) but their jewelry looks just like pieces we have at Stella & Dot — and we offer them for a lot less money. Take this crystal, ribbon-tie necklace from J. Crew for $98. Check out the Stella & Dot look-alike, the Ava Cupchain Necklace, for just $44. You could could get the matching Ava Cupchain Earrings and still have cash to spare. Now, that’s what I call an economic stimuls plan.

Ciao sono Stella, sono nata il 27 Novembre 2009, peso 3,620 kg e lunga 51 cm… Mamma e papà che dicono di chiamarsi Sara e Ronnie sono fuori di testa dalla felicità

Dedicato ad Andrea Pazienza

<<Prenditi pure tutto lo spazio che ti serve…>>

<<Sento di non trovarne abbastanza.. Sento che i limiti sono miei… Ma non voglio che si capisca>>.

Non è l’anniversario della morte e nemmeno della nascita. Andrea non è morto per l’eroina, non si è suicidato e non l’hanno ammazzato. Andrea è morto punto e basta.

Era di una bellezza spudorata, un po’ esibizionista, una vena blu nel polso scoperto, il più felice e il più disperato di tutti gli uomini. Il suo personaggio è indefinibile, se non con l’aggettivo geniale, che gli toglie le più belle sfumature umane, e allo stesso tempo gli getta addosso tutto il peso di un dono innato. Vorrei arrivare a comprendere la radice delle sue idee, che sembrano nate così come appaiono, che non ammettono l’idea di poter essere state progettate, modificate, corrette o cancellate.

“Suona così forte e bene che gli si incendiano i capelli”.

Sotto c’è un disegno impressionante di  un uomo che butta la testa all’indietro e gli si scopre la pancia, inarca la schiena, con i muscoli tesi in una stretta violenta, la stretta violenta della musica, e i suoi capelli sono fiamme e disegnano un’aureola demoniaca intorno alla sua testa. Dentro ad ognuna di queste figure c’è una vita, quella di Andrea Pazienza. E’ come se strappasse brandelli di lui con i denti per poi sputarli a destinatari a lui ignoti, a volte con rabbia, a volte con sdegno, a volte con ironia e a volte anche con dolcezza, anche se è una cosa incredibile.

Dentro ai suoi disegni c’è la forza di ritrarre il cosueto in un modo diverso, sotto un altro punto di vista, quello che noi non vediamo mai.  Andrea Pazienza viveva in un posto come gli altri e camminava su strade come le altre, ma la forza della sua poesia era tale da stravolgere ogni cosa in modo irrevocabile. Vedeva al di là dei muri e delle case, della politica, della televisione, dei supermercati e delle fabbriche di passata di pomodoro, ma non guardava allo spirito delle cose inteso come lo intendiamo tutti… Guardava dentro le cose, nella loro realtà concreta e pazzesca, proprio dove nessuno avrebbe mai pensato di guardare e dove nessuno avrebbe mai trovato niente da raccontare.

Eugenia.

I’ve found countless pics of First Lady Michelle Obama wearing stacks of pearl bracelets – or one large pearl bracelet — on her left wrist. It’s a different approach from her usual  jewelry choices, as she tends to wear brooches or colorful statement necklaces to pump up her style. Get the look with Stella & Dot’s many jewelry options, at a price to suit any budget. For those who need to tighten their belts, try the Pearl Soiree Bracelet for $29. Stack a few of them for a look similar to the First Lady’s. Or try the fan favorite Grace Pearl Bauble Bracelet for $89, below left, which Guilana Rancic wore on the Emmy’s red carpet. For a true stunner, look no further than the Coin Pearl Bracelet for $128, below right, featuring 6 strands of genuine coin pearls and freshwater pearls.

The lovely First Lady also stacks bracelets of varying colors, sizes and textures on her wrists, as seen in the photo when she was at the recent state dinner in Washington wearing a Rachel Roy skirt and J. Crew cardigan (above, bottom right) or at a Denver high school wearing a grey argyle sweater (above, top right). Get the look by stacking several Soiree Pave Pearl Bracelets together in the colors of your choice: grey, brown, champagne, ivory and black.

small documentary of our day today :O)

hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving!

(update: my current theme only shows the first photo, so i’ll set up an album or another page so you all can see the entire set of photos!)

if you like the taste of apple cider AND beer, here’s a unique concoction.

(tastes like hornsby’s hard apple cider)

1 part martinelli’s sparkling apple cider

3 parts stella artois beer

try it if you’re feeling adventurous

enjoy!

C’era una volta una meravigliosa stella dai lucenti occhi viola di nome Noa.

Piccola, luminosa e bella la stellina  viveva nel cielo dei Mari del Sud insieme a tutte le sue sorelle, allegra e sorridente, e come loro appariva nel buio ogni notte per rischiarare coi suoi raggi i meravigliosi flutti argentei dell’oceano e con esso tutte le sue creature, con calore e passione infiniti.

Gentile, dolce e sensibile la stella cullava però nel suo cuore a dispetto dei suoi simili, un grande sentimento d’amore, e per questo era malvista da tutti.

Innamoratasi una notte d’aprile, di una bellissima rosa in boccio dai petali di una cangiante tonalità di blu, Noa era stata additata sin da subito per quell’amore inutile e malsano come una povera stolta, e rimproverata dalla vecchia Ester, la Stella Madre, che incaricata di custodire tutte le sue creature, aveva visto in lei la figlia ribelle, non aveva mai ricevuto una sola parola buona per quel suo nobile sentimento.

“Una rosa!” le aveva urlato subito dietro l’anziana, sorprendendola coi suoi raggi in direzione del fiore. “Una rosa blu!” aveva marcato il tono, riportandola all’ordine “Cosa potrà mai darti una rosa blu! Cosa? Non potrà mai salire qui con te in cielo,  non potrà mai abbracciarti, regalarti dolci carezze, parole buone! Governare sui mari! Non potrete mai avere dei figli, costruire un pezzo di firmamento solo vostro, una vita insieme! Quel fiore appartiene alle Terre del Nord, è figlio delle rocce! Muto, sterile, immobile! La sua vita è ancorata alla terraferma e tu sei del cielo e del mare! Libera, infinita, pura, sei una stella dei mari!”

 “Tu devi vivere fra le stelle come te! Cercare il tuo futuro in un buon marito, attraversare con lui il cielo mano nella mano, avere dei figli, crescere insieme e maturare! Cose che quella rosa non potrà mai darti!”

Ma sorda ai suoi rimproveri, Noa non aveva occhi che per Blu, il suo fiore. E illuminandolo con la sua luce ogni notte restava con lui fino al mattino, bevendo ogni attimo della loro felicità insieme.

Quel bocciolo non era muto, non era cieco, non era sordo né sterile, Blu con lei parlava, insieme discorrevano tutta la notte; non potevano mai toccarsi, sfiorarsi, carezzarsi, ma il loro alfabeto, quello del cuore, non conosceva limiti né confini.

Lui la guardava come nessun altro e lei ai suoi occhi si sentiva speciale, unica, importante.

Non avrebbero mai potuto avere dei figli, tenersi per mano attraversando il cielo godendo del dolce canto delle onde al crepuscolo, dormire stringendosi l’uno all’altra nelle notti di gelo scaldandosi a vicenda, respirare di un solo fiato. Ma erano gesti quelli, davvero poi così importanti, rispetto a quel loro amore, cercato e voluto minuto per minuto, così forte, intenso ed infinito, che rendeva felici entrambi?

“Un giorno tu perderai quel fiore, perché è nella sua natura! E tu allora cosa farai? Sola e senza prole?” le ripeteva Ester fuori di sé, al colmo del livore, quando al suo orecchio giungeva la voce dell’ ennesimo rifiuto della stella, dinanzi ad un giovane pretendente, di divenire sua moglie “Ti pentirai! Ecco cosa farai! Ti pentirai di aver buttato via la felicità, quando ti si presentava davanti a tempo debito! Per quel qualcosa che non potrà mai essere al tuo fianco a ridere con te, rendendoti madre, facendoti percorrere il cielo intero!”

Ma Noa sorda, non aveva orecchie per quel genere di discorsi.

Un giorno però, attraversando il cielo come ogni notte al far del  tramonto, per prendere il suo posto nel firmamento, la stellina abbassando gli occhi in terra sentì di colpo il suo cuore mancarle di un battito, nello scorgere d’improvviso il suo fiore reciso.

Mani umane l’avevano raccolto ed al suo posto avevano lasciato solo uno stelo troncato e avvizzito.

Disperata lei prese allora a percorrere l’intera volta celeste per ritrovarlo: come avrebbe mai potuto vivere senza?

In lungo e in largo, dal basso verso l’alto, l’alto verso il basso, da destra a sinistra e viceversa, sembrava non esserci più traccia di lui, ma lei doveva ritrovarlo, doveva.

E infine stravolta, col fiato in gola, setacciato l’intero emisfero senza alcun esito positivo, la stella vinta cadde carponi, sentendo i suoi occhi riempirsi di lacrime.

E udendo d’improvviso a quel gesto, soffiare nel proprio petto la voce dolcissima di Amore, spirito dalle lunghe ali bianche e la pelle evanescente, sussurrandole di fermare la sua folle corsa; percependo per la prima volta il proprio cuore battere per due, sollevò la testa sconvolta.

E comprendendo di colpo dove fosse Blu, serrando le palpebre per ricacciare indietro il pianto, divenne così luminosa da far risplendere il cielo intero.

E mai stella fu più bella di lei in tutto il creato.

Monica Fiorentino

So today, or rather, yesterday, my friends and I wandered into Crossroads Trading Company to try to rid our blues. I bought three dresses, a beautiful print knit bolero, and a bright blue peacoat. (I’m satisfactorily happier now.) On the way out, I spotted Red Marc Jacobs Wedges and a stunning pair of Gray Stella McCartney Boots. (Thank the lawd they weren’t my size, or i’d probably be out $250 by now.) But they were pretty reasonably priced at $100 (MJ) and $150 (SM). So if ever you are in the vicinity of a Crossroads, go check it out in all its glory.

Speaking of two of my favorite designers in the history of HUMANKIND, below are some of my favorite looks from their Spring 2010 runway shows. Stella McCartney’s collection was magnificent and by gods, I swear I will be there one day! Marc Jacobs’ collections (both Marc by March Jacobs and Marc Jacobs) were BOTH marvelous, although I tend to shy away from the more (dare I say it?) young-y looks of Marc by Marc Jacobs. Still beautiful to behold, however. Onward maties!

Stella McCartney;

Marc by Marc Jacobs;

Pretty much enthralled by this blouse and pair of shorts. Aren’t they just so cute?

Marc Jacobs;

Ahh, not only am I thankful for wonderful thrift stores, I’m thankful for the likes of you, Stella McCartney and Marc Jacobs. (Really! Your designs make me so excited I probably would pee my pants if I saw them in person!) Your dominance in the fashion world is only evidence of your brilliant minds and ongoing greatness. I cut my Turkey in honor of you! (OK maybe not true, I don’t eat Turkey. Or meat for that matter… hm I should get that checked out. ) Have a great Thanksgiving, peoples! And don’t forget to be thankful for your bestest designers. (:

Yours truly,

Lili Darling

Happy Birthday Stella! It is 11:50 p.m. here and we just connected to the internet for the first time today with some very old hardware. I was so afraid that we wouldn’t make it. We hope that you had a great day!

Tim and Jeanne are here for the second time in one month! We have a big dinner planned for tomorrow. We hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving Day; we are thankful for each of you!

Dearest Stephanie,

Damn, girl! I’m jealous! Your manager actually tells you how to fix what you’re doing wrong?!  Mine just tells me I do everything wrong, so much so that, in fact, there’s really no point in telling me the specifics because, well, it would all be too much for lil ole doctorally educated me.

Talk about being worn down! Over the last week, this is what I’ve been hearing: “You do a lot wrong. You make a lot of mistakes.”

“Can you give me some specifics? Maybe a tip or two?”

“There’s just so much,” he said.

Ummm, well, that wasn’t very helpful now, was it. (I omitted the question mark because, like, it’s a rhetorical question.) The most bizarre part is that this manager actually lobbied me for weeks to move to the busier of the two restaurants on Saturday nights because he said the other bartender was too slow to handle the rush. And I resisted because Boo works at the slower restaurant, and I love working with Boo. But I finally relented due to my desire to actually make money at my job because, you know, that’s why I wanted to work in the first place.

I’m not one for conflict. I’m easy-going in the extreme. I just like to know that I’m an asset not a liability at whatever I do–writing, bartending, parenting…you name it!

So, yes, I’ve been quite distressed, really, at the thought that my mistakes are so voluminous that there’s no saving me. Consequently, for the last two nights, I’ve been crafting an eloquent resignation speech, especially while counting my drawer or polishing the glasses. So typically melodramatic of me.

But I really don’t want to quit, partly for reasons you have explored–it bothers me to give up, etc. etc. blah blah blah. But also because…I like bartending. It’s fun and social and soaks up some of my excess energy. Plus there’s the added bonus that I’m too busy to think.

Except when the bar is dead. Then I begin to think, in excess, that no one wants to come see me because I am a bad bartender. Oh no!

Between my manager’s “criticism” and the empty bar, I’ve been a bit, shall we say, “down in the dumps.” (Relish the air quotes.)

To cheer myself up, I bought a new pair of flats and two silver bracelets that look quite lovely with my existing silver bracelet. This was also to remind me that if I quit, bye-bye pretty things. It’s kind of fucked up, I acknowledge, but there you have it.

The insight I’m about to share with you has nothing to do with what I’ve been going on about, but here it is: I realized that I was absorbing the criticism and the environment such that my failures would become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I believe I suck, and so I act like I suck, and customers come to believe that I suck. You get what I’m saying? It’s sort of like an “I think; therefore, I am” kind of thing.

So tonight, when I finally had some customers, I said to myself, Listen, you. The only thing you can control is you, so just do your thing, and don’t worry about the rest. Just enjoy yourself. Just go with it. Just remember every vague, self-help thing you’ve ever heard second-hand (because self-help books are boring, and there’s just too much good literature to read, and who has the time?), and create your own reality. It’ll be great!

And I did. I was friendly and personable and as efficient as I know how to be.

It just so happens that one of the owners decided to spend tonight hanging out at the bar. Was this chance or by design…I couldn’t tell you. But, man, was I glad he was there. Because I could not have scripted it any better. Ever read one of those chick lit books with the uplifting ending? No? Too bad, because it was just like that.

Some highlights include:

A couple who came to the bar to wait for their take-out order announced, “we wanted to sit and have a drink with you!”

Another couple, also waiting for take-out, asked, “What nights do you work?” When I told them, they said, “Ok, well then we’re only coming in Saturdays, Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays.” Then they looked at the customers sitting next to them and exclaimed, “She’s such a great bartender!”

The two thirty something ladies who said, “You’re so fun! We’re definitely going to come back to see you!” As an added bonus, they went to hight school with the owner’s daughter and said this in front of her. They also tipped me $20 on a $27 dollar tab. I liked them!

But here is where it actually gets a little ridiculous. A woman who frequently comes in with her daughter to eat at the bar came in with her family, and they sat at a table. When she left, she stopped by the bar to wish me a happy Thanksgiving, and she reached out her hand, so I clasped it, and–I’m deeply embarrassed to type this–she kissed my hand! You can’t make this shit up. I’m actually laughing because it was so over-the-top. But it cheered the hell out of me. She really is an incredibly sweet lady.

Happy Thanksgiving!

love,

Stella

As we say here at Stella & Dot: “We hate naked ears!” And as Jennifer Lopez has mentioned, she believes no woman should leave the house without earrings. So how do you pick the perfect pair… And more importantly, how do you pick the perfect pair that will flatter and fit your face shape? Read on to find out!

How to find your face shape:
There are many ways to find your shape, from the simple (tie your hair back and trace your face shape on the mirror with lipstick) to the silly (put a towel over your head and have your husband guess the shape). But a true measurement of your face shape is in, well, its measurements! Write down these measurements on a piece of paper to determine your face shape:

1.) Measure your forehead at the widest points
2.) Measure your face across your cheekbones
3.) Measure your jawline at the widest points
4.) Measure your face vertically from hairline to chin

Oval — Length is equal to one and a half times the width
Round — Width and length are almost the same, within a half inch
Long — Longer than it is wide
Pear — Wide chin with a narrower forehead
Heart — Wide at forehead and cheekbones, very narrow at chin
Square — Forehead, cheekbones and jawline are about the same width
Diamond — Wider at cheeckbones, narrow at forehead and jawline

How to Find the Perfect Pair of Earrings:

Oval – This face shape is the most versatile and you can wear nearly any style of earring. So go for it and have fun! Try anything from the round Jasmine Filigree Earrings to the funky Lily Flower Earrings. If you have a narrower face, you might want to veer away from long, thin earrings, especially when worn with your hair up, since it may exaggerate your face shape. Your celebrity face shape twins: Britney Spears, Sarah Michelle Geller, Megan Fox

Round – Stay away from round earrings, girl! They will exaggerate your own face shape. This includes round stud earrings and some hoops. Try long, angular earrings such as the Adrienne Mixed Chain Earrings or small drops or dangles, such as the Turquoise Sea Drop Earrings.  You can also get away with longer, chandelier earrings as long as they are not too rounded. Check out the Paige Chandelier Earrings with your favorite party dress. Your celebrity face ship twins: Christina Ricci, Drew Barrymore, Baby Spice

Long – Anything round and wide your friend. Stay away from angular or really long, narrow earrings. Round or oval studs, such as the Glint Flower CZ Earrings or the Mira Stone Stud Earrings, work great. Hoops work well, such as the Jill CZ Hoops, as do round earrings such as the Gilda Hoop Earrings. Chandeliers can add width to your face, just make sure they aren’t too long, such as the Delphine Chandelier Earrings. Your celebrity face shape twins: Sarah Jessica Parker, Gwyneth Paltrow

Pear – You want to keep the focus as high as possible to create the illusion of a wider forehead. Stick with small drops, such as the Soiree Earrings or Heirloom Earrings, or round studs, like the Glint CZ Earrings. Small hoops like the Baby Pave Hoop Earrings also work great. Your celebrity face shape twins: Halle Berry, Bette Midler

Heart – Look for earrings that are slightly wider at the bottom to balance your face shape. Try chandeliers, triagular shapes and tear drops. The Jenna Teardrop Earrings are a safe bet, as are the Charlize Earrings, the Latte Earrings and the Perfect Faceted Earrings. Your celebrity face shape twins: Jennifer Love Hewitt, Reese Witherspoon, Elizabeth Hurley, Heather Graham

Square – Soften the angles of your face with round, soft earrings, such as the Gemma Stone Earrings or  the Gilda Hoop Earrings. Hoops work great, such as the Devi CZ Hoop Earrings and small round dangles like the Soiree Earrings work with your face shape. You can pull off longer styles, so have fun with it. Just beware of wide, angular styles. Your celebrity face shape twins: Paris Hilton, Sandra Bullok, Calista Flockhart

Diamond – Shorter, wider earrings will do you well, such as the Heirloom Earrings. Slightly longer earrings, such as the Coin Pearl Earrings or Della Brushed Earrings also work well. Stay away from anything too long and narrow. Your celebrity face shape twins: Nicole Kidman, Linda Evangelista

Stella & Dot received a lot of media attention due to Jillian Harris’ style picks on the The Bachelorette. And these golden lovelies are no exception. The Jasmine Filigree Earrings from Stella & Dot received almost as much airtime as Wes’ silly, slimy country song. They went everywhere with Jillian — from the jacuzzi spa to Spain to ziplining in Whistler. Check out the look-alike Gold Lace Earrings, below, from Lisa Stewart jewelry for $95. Stella & Dot’s version are 14kt gold vermeil and just $59. No wonder Jillian loved her earrings…. They’re true style for a steal!

Design agency Mother London have created a new Youtube television show styled in 1960’s France to enhance their new eco, stylish branding. The video is cool and oozes madmen stlye with modern humour  - even with Florence and the Machine playing a song. I cant see many Stella drinkers being into this sort of thing tho – the product is still foul

{Via Creative review}

P.s.

Io sono Monica e questo è il mio grandissimo e bellissimo cielo e io sono come una stella, brillo, brillo e brillo di più, ma la mia luce viene da molto in alto.

Un bacio a tutte le mie magiche nuvolette e un bacio speciale all’amico che mi ha mandato la mail.

(e chi lo dice che i p.s. vanno alla fine…Monica è una ribelle nata

—–

Stamattina ho ricevuto una mail da un amico. Ero contentissima, perchè è un pò che non lo sentivo. Ieri gli ho mandato un semplice UN BACIONE MI MANCHI e oggi la sua splendida lettera. Mentre la leggevo, appena arrivata in ufficio, piangevo. Leggevo le parole di chi non mi conosce nel mio essere Monica tutti i giorni, ma era riuscito a leggermi dentro. Non voglio entrare nei dettagli della lettera, ma mi sono fermata un attimo a pensare al messaggio che fino ad oggi ho trasmesso a chi mi legge, a chi percepisce il mio essere Stella. Stella non è in contrapposizione a Monica. Stella è la parte sognatrice e poeta di Me. Stella è un sorriso che si pone sul mio viso, ma non è che Monica sia triste o annullata. Monica è una lottatrice. Non si ferma mai. Lotta per quello in cui crede. Monica è reale e fisica, ma l’intento del blog era quello di creare un cielo, impalpabile e leggero, soffice e morbido. Non rinnego il mio essere Monica. Non rinnego la vita che faccio. Cercherò di manifestare il mio essere fisica e reale, facendo partecipe il mio cielo della fisicità dei miei pensieri, pur non allontanandomi dal motto del mio cielo: SORRIDI, ANCHE SE IL TUO SORRISO è TRISTE, PERCHè ANCOR PIù TRISTE DEL TUO SORRISO TRISTE è LA TRISTEZZA DI NON POTER SORRIDERE.

Un’amica recentemente mi ha detto: “E’ difficile per chi sta attraversando un periodo problematico venire nel tuo cielo, tu che sei sempre felice.” Io voglio trovare sempre uno spazio per il mio sorriso, ma non crediate che io non abbia i miei problemi. Non è nel mio DNA fare l’elenco delle cose che non vanno, ma io sono reale come siete reali voi, ho i conti da pagare a fine mese, un conto corrente sempre in rosso, un cesto della biancheria pieno di panni da lavare, clenti che non sono mai contenti nonostante io ci metta anima e corpo per aiutarli, un mare di intolleranze e di allergie e cose che non posso mangiare, tendini lesionati che si fanno sentire, la stanchezza che si manifesta sul mio volto, un papà anziano che non vuole accettare gli anni che ha, e forse tutti noi con lui. Non è realtà questa? Certo che la è, ma non era l’intento del mio blog. I problemi li affronto, ma con il sorriso. Non mi fermo in un angolo a piangere. Vado in un bosco e urlo a più non posso e poi raccolgo l’energia degli alberi. Io sono fatta così.

Non c’è una linea di demarcazione fra dove finisce Monica e dove inizia Stella. Non c’è fantasia in quello che scrivo. I sogni fanno parte della mia anima, ma io credo fortemente in quello che faccio.

Ho tratto spunto dalla lettera del mio amico per dirlo a tutto il mio cielo, visto che già qualcuno me l’aveva accennato.

Io sono semplicemente Monica. Stella è la mia parte magica, quella parte misteriosa e magica che tutti noi conserviamo nel cuore e nell’anima.

A tutti un bacio stellare, Monica

]]> http://stephanieandstella.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/self-and-other-its-complicated/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 06:20:24 +0000 stella333 http://stephanieandstella.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/self-and-other-its-complicated/

Dear Stephanie,

The Whitest Man in America has 6-inch thick glasses. He’s overweight with a receding hairline. He wears high-water pants, pulled up over his belly with a too-tight belt, and black shoes over white gym socks. He speaks in a deep monotone. Everything is very literal. He is divorced, pushing fifty, and lives with his mother.

The Whitest Man in America is one of my customers.

He pays for his tab with his mother’s credit card. And let me tell you something: she is one ferocious looking lady. I know this because her picture is on the credit card.

For the record, I did not christen him with his moniker. Nice Guy manager did that all by himself. He too is white but apparently, by his own admission, not the whitest of white men.

TWMiN usually comes into the bar towards closing time, orders beer and take out (dinner for himself and his mom), and sits at the bar for interminably long stretches of time. He’s a nice man, never inappropriate. For example, I have never seen him hit on the absurdly exotically attractive 19-year old server. Nor has he asked me to pour her alcoholic beverages. Keep in mind that I can’t say this about all my 40-50 something male customers. Nevertheless, my heart would sometimes sink when I’d see TWMiA coming, mostly because it means an extra long night, and mommy tips only moderately well. And he’d engage me in conversation thus distracting me from my clean-up (which I kept having to redo with every beer he ordered).

In the interest of full disclosure, I should also add that I held a slight grudge against him because he orders draught beer, and our taps are cruelly intractable. They’ll run just right until the glass is half full then belch out a stream of foam, splattering everywhere, leaving me with a big fat mess to clean up.

So anyway, one night, TWMiN had stood up to leave when another of our regulars—the distinguished professional, Psychologist #1—came in and sat down next to him.

“Let me buy my friend here a drink,” TWMiN said, gesturing to #1.

“Okey dokey,” I replied, working overtime to keep the despair out of my voice.

I’ve harbored a distrust of psychologists going back to college, when I noticed that the psychology majors seemed to be the biggest crazies, and I can’t say that #1 has divested me of this distrust. One day, he ordered three gin martinis in rapid succession. As he was guzzling the third one, he glanced at his watch and said, “Shit, I gotta see a patient at 6:30.”

It was 6:05.

Further, he’s got a self-righteous vibe about him, like he knows the answer to any and every conundrum and moral riddle. Plus he tends to implicate me in his political views. There are few things that fire me up like when other people assume they know how I feel about something. Don’t assume. Don’t assume! You don’t know me. You don’t know me! I detest when people talk about controversial subjects as if they can’t understand why there would be a controversy. Only two realities exist: 1) what they believe, and 2) All That is Wrong With the World.

Why oh why am I the only person who believes in heeding the dictum “Don’t talk politics at the bar?”

But I’m getting off topic. On the night these two fine fellows were conversating, the bar was quite busy, so I couldn’t eavesdrop on (or, in other terms, participate in) their conversation. I heard snippets of it as I rushed up and down the bar filling orders. What I heard was #1 say, “I don’t want to know anyone who’s pro-life. I just don’t want to know them.”

“Why?” TWMiN asked, in a voice filled with wonder.

“I just don’t,” said #1. This didn’t surprise me since #1 isn’t one to provide long, evidence-laden arguments. He said it; therefore, it must be true. And please, let’s note the sentence structure: this is about what #1 wants and doesn’t want not about the issue itself, which I’d just as soon not hear about, by the way.

But TWMiN continued talking. I heard the word “foundation” come up en route to the microwave to heat up a hot sake. Then #1 again, contemptuous, in a raised voice,“I don’t want to know about your foundation.”

“Why?” TWMiN asked again, again clearly puzzled.

Then I heard the scraping of a barstool. #1 stood up, moved two barstools down, sat down again, turning his back to TWMiN, and struck up a conversation with a couple of other regulars. TWMiN just stayed where he was, sipping his beer, smiling pleasantly.

I passed their spot just at this moment with the sake in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels, which I was taking to the service bar, in the other. At some distant table, customers were waiting for that hot sake and a Jack and Coke.  But I was rooted to the floor, as the saying goes. I felt deeply upset, to be perfectly honest. My throat clenched, and I had to blink back tears.

Meanwhile, TWMiA sat a few more minutes until his beer glass was empty. I was stealing quick glances at him from the service bar, where I was pouring wine. Eventually, he stood up and began to walk towards the back entrance.

“Don’t forget your take-out,” I called out.

“Oh, I won’t,” he said, still smiling pleasantly as he ambled towards the exit having picked up his bag of food.

“And have a nice evening,” I added.

“I will. Thank you,” he replied. As he passed #1, he said, “Nice to see you #1. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said #1 dismissively over his shoulder.

In truth, I know precisely nothing about TWMiN’s heart or mind. I do not know how he came to be living in his mother’s basement or why he comes to a Chinese restaurant’s bar every night around closing to drink American beer. I don’t know anything about the foundation he referred to. But I’ll tell you this: I absolutely loathed myself for every unkind, ungenerous thought I’d had about him.

Love,

Stella