FRIDAY! I don't feel so bad today. Funny how Friday can do that to a person. I feel like I should apologize for this week. The cold has sent my social life into a tailspin. So, have no fear, I'll be back fresh on Monday with new tails and exploits. However, I'm not going to end it there for today. I thought I take some time and start working on my first novel. I'm going to give it a working title of:
"The Wallet"
You wouldn't know it to look at me but I'm a nonconformist. OK, I voted Republican in the last three elections, I don't carry credit card debt and I'm always early for work. I consider myself a rebel for one reason; I carry my wallet in my back pocket. I know, It's been preached to me for years, "Keep your wallet in your front pocket, pick pockets are everywhere." Especially in this city! It seems like such a small detail but It makes me different. I walk a little taller knowing that I'm going against the grain on this one.
I was sitting on the Subway, making the always horrible commute home. The dregs of humanity they let through the gates is amazing. Just the smell alone is enough to curl your toes. I was on the local so we were making all the stops, lucky me. The Subway stopped at the 42nd street station and a woman got on. She looked to be about 44, she's seen better days. She was clearly drunk as she stumbled over and of course, sat next to me. The air was thick with Vodka and Orange Juice as she mumbled this, "Paul Theroux is my favorite author." "What?", I said. Her tone became louder and more irritated. "I SAID, PAUL THEROUX is my favorite author! I can spot a book worm a mile away and you'd like his work." Everybody's looking at her. I have one rule when dealing with unstable people in enclosed spaces, agree with everything.
We were approaching the 14th Street station, my stop. In the middle of agreeing with her ramblings I had to cut her short and say, "OK, this is my stop, good luck." As I quickly got up, she shoved this Paul Theroux book in my hands and in a calm, almost sober voice simply said, "Take this."
I walked out the door, the doors closed. I touched my back pocket (a nervous habit of mine) and my wallet was gone. The train started moving and I ran to the window and saw my wallet on the seat. It wasn't pick pockets, in my attempts to squirm away from this woman, It must have fallen out. The train wouldn't stop. "F**K!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Hey, I like some of that. How's he going to get his wallet back? Who was that woman? Is there any significance to the book? Hmmmmmmm. OK, that's it. Have a great weekend. God Bless America.
"The Wallet"
You wouldn't know it to look at me but I'm a nonconformist. OK, I voted Republican in the last three elections, I don't carry credit card debt and I'm always early for work. I consider myself a rebel for one reason; I carry my wallet in my back pocket. I know, It's been preached to me for years, "Keep your wallet in your front pocket, pick pockets are everywhere." Especially in this city! It seems like such a small detail but It makes me different. I walk a little taller knowing that I'm going against the grain on this one.
I was sitting on the Subway, making the always horrible commute home. The dregs of humanity they let through the gates is amazing. Just the smell alone is enough to curl your toes. I was on the local so we were making all the stops, lucky me. The Subway stopped at the 42nd street station and a woman got on. She looked to be about 44, she's seen better days. She was clearly drunk as she stumbled over and of course, sat next to me. The air was thick with Vodka and Orange Juice as she mumbled this, "Paul Theroux is my favorite author." "What?", I said. Her tone became louder and more irritated. "I SAID, PAUL THEROUX is my favorite author! I can spot a book worm a mile away and you'd like his work." Everybody's looking at her. I have one rule when dealing with unstable people in enclosed spaces, agree with everything.
We were approaching the 14th Street station, my stop. In the middle of agreeing with her ramblings I had to cut her short and say, "OK, this is my stop, good luck." As I quickly got up, she shoved this Paul Theroux book in my hands and in a calm, almost sober voice simply said, "Take this."
I walked out the door, the doors closed. I touched my back pocket (a nervous habit of mine) and my wallet was gone. The train started moving and I ran to the window and saw my wallet on the seat. It wasn't pick pockets, in my attempts to squirm away from this woman, It must have fallen out. The train wouldn't stop. "F**K!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Hey, I like some of that. How's he going to get his wallet back? Who was that woman? Is there any significance to the book? Hmmmmmmm. OK, that's it. Have a great weekend. God Bless America.
About the Author. BOB BORDEN grew up in Steubenville, Ohio. This is his first novel. He currently lives in Hoboken, New Jersey with two cats.
