Sunday, June 14, 2009

Reading (and Writing) Between the Lines

The next morning was the same routine as every morning this week. I am running in the park by 10, showering by 11AM, and at Jonata's by 11:30AM. For some reason after my first coffee I kept thinking I had something to tell Saber but since I couldn't remember exactly what that might be I figured if I saw him it might jump start my memory.

When I walk in his shop, he's like "Paige, I have been trying to call you." He said it so seriously, I was nervous to look at him. "I have your computer."

And...

"My friend was able to fix it. You can now write the great American novel."

Hallaleujah! I had almost become resigned to the fact that my computer was down until I got back to New York -- 3 more weeks. It was troubling, but what else could I really do except by a new one? Leave it to Saber to get things sorted. He is just amazing.

With my computer in operation, my previous plan to lay out on the roof and soak up some sun was immediately tossed out the window. I was headed to the cafe for more coffee and many hours to catch up on the events of my travels.

As I sat down, I perused what had been writen prior to the breakdown, Joseph (elderly neighbor of Saber) asked if he could join me. I was seated at a table for two, but was only using half of it, and all the other tables were taken so I said sure. He ordered lunch and we chatted while he ate.
As he was finishing his lunch, a woman and a decent looking man walked by. The woman was typical Spanish, with dark hair, slightly larger in size, and dressed in an outfit that was too tight. She knew Joseph, and after a big hug and two kisses, they talked quickly in animated Spanish.

As she walked away, Joseph explained that had been his ex-girlfriend of 14 years. That she had left him a year ago for the man that was with her. Not to be critical, but compared to her new boyfriend Joseph was a relic. I could see where she might have wanted to trade in for a newer model. I guess Joseph knew what I was thinking as he then proceeded to tell me about a time when he was 48 he had dated an 18 year old for 18 months. He did the math for me, pointing out the age difference was almost thirty years.

Why was he telling me this? I did not see how it was possible that a 18-year-old would be happy dating a 48-year-old. Well, maybe some 48-year-olds, but not Joseph. Joseph was about thirty years older than me, and there was NO WAY I would EVER be interested in him. EVER.

Joseph finished his lunch, and I went back to writing while waiting for Saber to have lunch, which was in about twenty minutes. When he sat down I caught him up on the neighborhood gossip, which mostly consisted of my conversation with Joseph.

Saber looked at me funny, as he took a long inhale on his cigarette and slowly exhaled. "You be careful with Joseph," he said. "I don't know that you can trust him."

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