Pub Shot: That Chick From Frasier

“Hey it’s You!” his eyes were glossy with beer and he was smiling the same goofy smile he’d had the first time I met him at the Pub. The smile looked open and slightly ready to be kicked in, the way an overly friendly dogs does.

I remembered he was currently remodeling a house out here in Corbett. And I remembered that he has two boys he doesn’t get to see as much as he’d like since his divorce with his high school sweetheart. And I remembered that he has trouble installing car seats in his truck. And I remembered that we competed to build card houses out of beer coasters and I won with a card castle sturdy enough to be mobile. I could NOT for the life of me remember his name. “It is me! And it’s you! How are you?”

“Is your name…… Savannah?” he asked looking my face over for signs of accuracy or sobriety.

“Noooo… but don’t feel too bad. I don’t remember your name either. So what is it?”

“Scott.” he had a western shirt on. The kind with the pearly snaps I always want to rip open like super man. It stuns me they don’t put those snaps on lady shirts.

“Scooooottt. Of course. I like your snaps Scott.” I felt not even a flicker of recognition. “You get a lot of folks ripping your shirt open with shiny snaps like that?” I put my hand lightly on his chest.

“How did you know they were snaps?” and then I remembered that his bulb isn’t all that bright but he’d likely make some darling very happy one day if he gave up beer and strippers.

 “My name’s Dew(ed).” I reminded him, sort of wishing I wasn’t at the Pub and could make a name up.

“That’s RIGHT! Like the chick from Frasier!”

“NO! We had this argument last time! Her name starts with an M but it’s not Dew(ed). I can’t remember it but it’s not Dew(ed)! It’s meryl. Or something like merisomething. I can’t believe you didn’t look it up! You swore you would look it up!”

“Do you want to play darts?”

“I’ve been dying to play darts.” I was true. I kinda did want to get up and move around a bit. “But I have a couple tables of friends over there waiting for me.”

“Well, bring one of your friends over to play with you.”

“Alright. I guess I could ask.”

“Do it.”

“I said I would. Dude.”

“okay.”

“Okay.” I wandered back around the pool table to stuff my coat in the booth. “Okay. Who wants to play darts with those guys over there? ‘Cause I’m not blowing either of them.”