It’s quiet in here and a bit early for drinks (mimosa, please, light on the OJ), but the stool is comfy, and I need something to help me unsee my neighbor’s handyman using the porta-potty in their front yard, door too ajar. They’re having work done and wish to keep the men outside as much as possible. Earlier in the week, I had asked the neighbor if he were adding an instant powder room or just experimenting with lawn ornaments which caused him to launch into a very defensive explanation of why the blue outhouse was necessary/temporary.
I guess a year of isolation has impaired the poor man’s sense of humor. Or, that second martini impaired my usually exquisite delivery. In any case, it’s nice to ponder some of life’s odder moments in this COVID-free watering hole.
Cheers.