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18 April 2009 No Comment

Your neighbor “Captain” comes over often with his barboy to show off to the ladies. It’s a dusty, rusty aluminum and he signs often as he grips it in his meaty fingers. How bout a 1/2 jigger for Judy? Some more for gin for Joan? And lots much more for Sloane….then he leans over and pops Bill’s Carlsburg, bends over and gracefully twists open Helen’s Bourdeax. Once he left it at the house, came over alone, sly and sleek as if he commited a crime. He  seemed less nimble and instead of talking broadly and brashly, his voice was hoarse and dry–hollow. He was lost without that barboy, the corkscrew, an extension of his arm. I told him we needed a bottle opener, even though I had several in the drawer. He rushed home and came back, a booming grin spreading over his perky cheeks. The night went on, Captiai happy and the girls at bay.

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