Happy Hour at Tilia.
This woman had the right idea...post-up alone at the bar at 4:00 with a book and a glass of wine. The only mistake she made was she didn’t get anything off the happy hour menu, she should have because all of it was fantastic (especially the Piri Piri chicken).
Father………..Son.
Saw this father and son walking to lunch together...or sort of together. Their ages dictated different walking speeds, but they were indeed together and there didn’t seem to be any tension between the two.
New Balance for Balance.
I love drawing oldsters. One thing just about all of them have in common is the New Balance sneakers. I feel like maybe they should sponsor my drawings. Free New Balance pocket protector with every purchase?
Sleepy Buddy.
I saw this little guy and his oldster hanging outside a coffee shop. See, there’s the New Balance shoes again. So comfortable they even make a good dog pillow.
The Minneapolis Club.
Love the stairwell in the Minneapolis Club even though heights scare the crap out of me. I’ve noticed that old buildings like this have really low railings. Like way too low. I like a railing taller than my waste...up to my armpit is nice. These things are somewhere between my knees and my waist. Way too low.
Assumption Church.
Coffee Shop Thinker.
He seemed like a dude from Ireland, but I’m also kind of making that up. He sure looked like it. He was in the coffee shop intently reading some sort or manual of study material. He was very concentrated....almost like he was studying telekinesis and trying the turn the pages with using only brain power. (For the record, I didn’t see a page turn on its own.)
Dishwasher Davis.
I make my dog’s food. It’s kind of ridiculous, I know. He eats better than we do...turkey, rice, broccoli, carrots, yams...it’s good eatin’ for sure. He knows when I’m making a batch of his food and stays glued to the kitchen the whole time. I let him lick the pot when I’m done so he won’t let that thing out of his sight, and I gotta say he does a damn good job of getting it clean.
Damn…
I just see an espresso machine set-up and I get a little excited. I can’t drink the stuff, I guess I’d call myself a recovering addict. Just the sight of a machine and I’ll relapse... before you know it I’ll be laying in an alley somewhere with and empty cold press next to me. Just grind the beans...a hit of the smell is all I need these days.
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