The Crew

As you well know my shop fronts a busy street. I keep two benches outside for old timers to cop a squat. Early mornings the benches are rubbed smooth by school children as they wait for their buses. Scene set.

I'm kinda grouchy of an early morning especially when I've had less than two cups of coffee. The wee hours provide my quiet time. This morning I'm deep into intellectual thought gathering duties when four of the middle sized boogers begin to take space on the bench directly in front of my office. They get, loud. I'm patient, after all they're children, half-pint adults and this ruckus is to be expected.

Five minutes, ten, enough. I step outside and put on a hard face. The four of them sit straight. Me, "Gentlemen. I really need your guys to cut out the screams and yells. If not you'll be required to wait at the street corner. Got it."

Smartbutt number one, "Why?"

I lied, "Because I'm on the telephone."

Same critter, "I don't be see a phone. Where 'ya phone?"

Takes me a second or two to translate into English. Then, "Oh, it's a landline. An old fashioned telephone"

Booger number two decides he needs attention, "What 'dat mean?"

They were serious, so I said, "Step inside." All four rush into the shop and I pointed towards one of my old and now obsolete communication devices. Products of Western Electric. Both with push button dialing systems.

Booger number one, "Is 'dat really you phone?" (Verbatim, no 'r' on your.) Big squeal of laughter. He continued, "Hey, man, where you be buy 'dis?"

"The flea market." All four yell with laughter. Then I said, "You outta see the pictures I take with it." Truthfully, I thought they'd pee their pants with laughter.

Some days I feel so damn old.

Stephen