Bill walks into Holman's

Bill walks into Holman's, bartender says Hi. Bill comes from Aviviar
to check the marquee at Lauralhurst: Goldfinger, 7:15; Locke; Only Lovers
Live Once; Under the Skin. He sits in a booth and orders the bowl of
chili and an iced tea. A stop for dinner and before going to Jags for the
very first time in search of Alice. He won't get near Ava and he's fairly
certain she won't be working behind the bar. He knows where Jags is now,
not far from the 6 stop on MLK and Columbia, go West and North from the
stop which is on the corner with McDonalds.

Blues is playing which makes him think of Memphis. He thinks he's a
writer he pens a narrative. The Safeway plastic bag is on the table with
his goods inside: dvd's from the library and 4 other things. he dropped
earlier his netbook at MACPCX, three twenties are resting in his pocket.
As the bartender scampers down the aisle at Holman's to visit the neighbor
Bill cannot help but tell himself: "I love your fat thighs." He's always got
sex on the mind. He scoots his bowl closer. "You see my Dad was from
a Mormon family..." He says to Amy.

Bill tossed a coin the other day and Alturas won over Independence, CA
and Silver Springs, NV. Both would have been extremely interesting, too.
Independence has a unique General Store, Joseph's where he would pick
up the week's supplies and he would probably buy another old motorhome
or trailer and park it in the small park on the South side of town directly
at the entrance to the Owens Valley pit-stop

At Holman's the whole wall behind the bar is full of liquor bottles, a drinker's
delight. For the tea Bill passes on the sugar. "House policy here, it's not
against Oregon State Law." The bartender tells someone something. Bill
eats the saltines, the chili is gone. He's bald and she is blond. She sits
at the bar and he places his knee on the stool beside her and swivels it
clockwise, then counter-clockwise. She reaches for her compact in her
purse, he considers the libations. The blues keep coming and Bill may
never get to Jags tonight. He's trying to push back the thought of going
to the Senior Center tomorrow and hopes he decides not to. The
bartender comes over to his booth and clears the table and brings another
iced tea. Amy's off, Aviviar closes every night at 7. She's going home to her
boyfriend of 9 years. The pit in the table makes Bill wonder. He's waiting for
it to get late to go to Jags. He lays a twenty on the napkins anyway.

The place where it is raw right now below his between cheeks never gets
washed because he can't reach it. Bill intends to get a brush tomorrow at
Dollartree. He's going to work look for a motorhome for $3000 if and when
he gets to Alturas. The sleeping homeless guy clutches the strap of his
backpack as he rests his head on it on the sidewalk at dusk. Bill never
strays far from the main road. He puts his toothpick back in his mouth and
pulls out his pen and starts clicking it, 17 minutes before the 20 arrives so
he walks around the blocks to the South and West back to the West-most
stop. On the opposite side of the street as he passes along is the broken
leaning apartment building he sees every time he goes up Burnside on the
20. It won't fall over but it sure leans and the paint is peeling and it's 2
doors from the most popular eatery in the neighborhood, "The Sidewalk"
and another directly across the street: "The Matador".