From my table at Planet Coffee, I can see a man in the breezeway, standing in the space between two benches on the wet bricks.
He's talking steadily, gesturing as if he were giving a presentation or sermon. He looks a bit like an actor memorizing a speech. His expression is earnest, and his focus, although inward, moves smoothly to various parts of the tiny plaza, as a speaker would, surrounded by rapt listeners. He has an earpiece in his ear and a cellphone held loosely in front of him at waist-level.
I can't hear him through the thick glass, but I find myself hoping he really is talking to somebody...
And Boobie, When You Call Me, You Can Call Me Hell
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It's time for part 2 of fabulous new nicknames!
Another 3-letter-name goes up in flames:
*(Aw, Hal.)*
Let's see if you can guess the rest without any...
5 hours ago