I find them on the patio at Beano, the one, I****, recognizes me and shouts my name, she's with T*****, the chef, the other family I left...
I liked them. Worked there a couple of years ago - maybe less, time, work, sleep, less, it's all a blur. They were cool, and so we sit on the benches and chat, I show I**** the pictures of the trip to Utah, chastise her for the contents of the backseat when finally I got round to cleaning out the car, there were condoms and birth-control pills, all sorts of shit they'd lost when we went on that road-trip to Drumheller, years ago, it seems like a lifetime...
It's good to see them. I missed them, liked them all, they were pleasant enough, but that restaurant, well, the owner, Croatian as well, Alpha dog and he barked a lot, too much, no way to address that without being an asshole, better to leave, on unfriendly terms, but sometimes life is like that. I'm not a dog. Singlehandedly, though, by his example and existence, he explained the whole of the war in Yugoslavia. I understood. And I understood that as Canadians we should be very careful about who we allow to immigrate...but I knew that already.
These people, I**** and T*****, they're the new generation, enlightened, I like them, and we sit an hour and visit before I go in for my coffee and book...