I had one of those "writing nights" tonight (more on that later). My wife gave me the evening off and, after hanging out in Target to get my daily fix, I headed over to a bookstore with an ampersand in the name. This is one of my three usual haunts--in case you're stalking me--when I escape the house and decide to do a little dextral lucubrations.
The nice thing about writing stuff in a bookstore is there's a lot of reference materials available. Being that it's in a bookstore, you can thumb through the info you want while jotting down notes, set it on a table when you're finished, and then wander off whistling innocently and pretending you were never near those books, and someone else will sweep in, pick up the books, and put them away. Tidy. The other nice thing is that other people move in and out of the store and cafe, and there's a lot of booby people watching to be done. If there's something I enjoy doing while pretending to write, it's watching boobies people.
Well, I was scribing a paragraph. When I finished penning that passage of perfect prose, I looked up and there I saw it: two men playing chess at one of the tables in the store.
Wow. I was fascinated and amazed and jealous, all at the same time. I was fascinated because, if you watch enough tv and movies, you usually come across the archetype couple of men conversing over a chessboard. I was amazed because it wasn't two old men, it was an old man and a young man--maybe a grandfather and grandson duo. I was jealous because, well, I don't know anyone who plays chess. More, I don't know anyone who would be willing to sit around and play me. Not that I'm terribly good or anything--quite the opposite, to be scathingly honest--but more that I'm terribly annoying. I like to talk, and some people don't like that during a game of chess. Plus, I don't like to lose, which is something I--unfortunately--do a lot in chess. Also, I fart. A lot.
I watched them for a while. The old guy--who was wearing a spectacular teal and aquamarine Hawaiian shirt, I might add--caught my eye once. I nodded to him, and he nodded back. The younger chap turned to look over his shoulder, and I nodded to him, too. After a return nod, the two men returned to their game and I returned to my writing.
Still, I thought it was refreshing that someone--anyone, really--sat down for a bit and played chess. I caught snippets of conversation and they were talking strategy over the game. Awesome. I commend you both, and wish you many happy games into the future.
1 day ago
