Last night I walked downtown. Along the way I overheard a couple discussing where they had parked their car. The streets of Bisbee look different at night.
There was another couple with a similar problem. They couldn’t find their Bed and Breakfast.
Once I got to downtown, I was approached by a woman, who was on the verge of tears. She informed me that there were some hoodlums who were in a fight in a backstreet near downtown.
I offered to call 911. She said, “No, the police are already there.”
She had been at the downtown coffee shop. She had met Dennis there. Now she was looking for the third story of a white building. She was going to meet Dennis to play Scrabble.
The other day we drove to Jimmy’s, a hot-dog restaurant. Cheri turned into a parking spot. Suddenly instead of slowing down, the Jeep or Cheri accelerated. The Jeep ran into a planter made of bricks. Cheri said that she must not have moved her foot to the brake.
Cheri went into her what-have-I-done-now mode, alternating with the I-am-an-old-lady mode.
Because I wasn’t driving, the acceleration didn’t seem sensible. Maybe did she did accelerate by hitting the gas pedal harder. However I may have seen too many news reports of vehicles accelerating automatically. I wonder whether Cheri accelerated or the Jeep automatically accelerated.
[It was a Saturday, and I had just moved to Wibaux, MT. Wibaux is near the border of Montana and North Dakota.]
I had an apartment in downtown Wibaux. It was a nice place, but noisy. The train went through downtown, but the biggest problem was the bar noise.
The Shamrock Bar was the noisiest bar in town and it was directly across the street from my place. I wasn’t prepared for the first Saturday night. The bar noise was so loud that I couldn’t sleep.
I heard an argument between two former friends. One of them said, “Hey, don’t cut me, man. I’ve loved you like a brother.”
When the bar closed at 2, I thought that Sunday night would be better. Nope – it was worse! North Dakota had laws preventing the sale of alcohol on Sundays. The drunks from North Dakota came to Wibaux to drink on Sunday evening.
I was walking downtown. Along the way I saw a family of four gathering up acorns. I paused to see what was happening. I asked the father how they ate the acorns. He said, “I don’t know English.”
I picked up an acorn, but the guy shook his head. This acorn had a crack in it. Instead he handed me an acorn without a crack. I ate it, and found that it was good and crunchy.
Is this manna* from heaven?
*manna = See Exodus 16