Glad to See You Go
I wrote this about an event in my own life, where I returned a black Ramones t-shirt to my high school girlfriend after holding on to it for her for thirty years. A former friend of mine also borrowed this event for lyrics of a song for her band. It's a lovely song but I wish she'd asked me first.
There’s a diner downtown where I stop for black coffee. I took Shira there on our second date. I went for my usual recently and found the doors padlocked and a ‘closed’ sign in the front window. I learned later that the crumbling old man who owned it moved to Florida. A year earlier, his waitress found him slumped over a counter clutching his arm. After that he was looking for a way out.
I need to find a new coffee shop now.
Shira hated that I smoke a pipe. My grandfather smoked a briar wood pipe, so I do as well. It’s an old man’s vice, but I’m not an old man. She put it on the list of things she’d grown to hate about me.
