Elbowing Out The Poodle Lady

Lunch is in the cards. I see...an apple walnut salad!

Lunch is in the cards. I see…an apple walnut salad!

East on Granville I skirt the Loyola campus, and reach the end of the line at Berger Park and the lake. The beach to the skyline south shines sandy in the afternoon sun. Michigan’s sun-green water remains turbulent, and I count one sailboat on the entire horizon. A bridesmaid in teal from a wedding in the park ponders eastward from the rocks, and a guitar duo turns the corner and passes her, axes slung, coffee in hand.

In a moment of suspense that would make Hitchcock yell “MacGuffin!”
in a crowded theater I turn my camera viewfinder to the north, only to
discover a tuxedoed wedding photographer pointing his own SLR directly at me! I drop to one knee and shoot, but the Tux is too quick. By the time I lower my camera he has vanished.

She’s using the dog to dupe me, but I won’t have it.

Waterfront Café, a beach café in the heart of Chicago. The lady with the toy poodle behind me inches ahead, trying to scam her way past me in line, but I won’t let her. I can hear her nudging breath, she’s that close. She’s using the dog to dupe me, but I won’t have it. After much posturing and a sideways glance I step up to order. I’ll let the tarot throw guarding the tip jar speak for itself. Live and let…

“Yes, thank you, I’d like an apple walnut salad, please!”

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