It’s Saturday. The week is over, the month and (in the US) Daylight Savings Time are ending. Seems like a good time to head to the bar. We’ll have an adult beverage, some light (non-droplet-spreading) conversation and we will attempt to work Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt into the conversation:
“Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is ‘trick.’ Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!”
If we were having a beer, you would still be carrying a grudge.
“Good afternoon, Dan. Can I assume that you ordered a Corona and a glass of John Howell’s Bourbon for me?”
“I did not, David. I ordered a beer but didn’t want to tax the bartender’s ability to keep things straight.”
“I see. I take it from that that Cheryl is not the bartender today.”
“No, that would be…”
“Hello Skippy.”
“Hi David. You sound a little irritated. Did I do something wrong?”
“You did, Skippy. You kept me waiting all afternoon for a glass of bourbon the last time you were on duty.”
“At Teagan’s party? Surely you can’t carry a grudge that long.”
“Oh, he can, Skippy, and stop calling him Shirley.”
“Dan, this isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry, David, but how could you expect anyone to pass up that line?”
“I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose that day, David. It’s just that there were so many tricky drinks to make, my mind got a little frazzled.”
“There’s no trick to pouring a glass of bourbon, and as for your mind being frazzled…well, let’s not go there.”
“Dan, I did trick out your Corona. They’re less concerned about the virus on objects and surfaces, so I’ve been allowed to revive the two-lime balance.”
“A true work of art. It’s almost a shame to drink this.”
“Skippy, why don’t you try your hand at artfully stacking a few cherries in a glass of John Howell’s Bourbon and adding it to a still life with a snifter of seltzer and a glass of ice.”
“No problem, David.”
“Sigh…Well Dan, it snowed yesterday. Were your cars safe and dry in the garage?”
“Safe, perhaps, but I don’t know about dry.”
“Does the roof leak?”
“No, but I didn’t get them in the garage until late Thursday afternoon. It was already raining pretty hard, so they were soaked.”
“I’m amazed they fit. I thought for sure you built that wall too close to the front.”
“David, I can’t tell you how many times I looked up the length, measured the car and measured the floor. I even had my wife help me measure the car.”
“You looked up the length? Where?”
“Um, the Internet. The car is one-hundred and seventy-six-point-four inches long.”
“And the distance from the wall to the door, Dan?”
“More than long enough to hang a sixteen-foot ladder on the wall, David.”
“Here’s your bourbon, David.”
“Thanks Skippy. Where are the cherries?”
“I forgot. I’ll put some in the seltzer.”
“See why I didn’t order your bourbon when I ordered my beer?”
“A wise precaution my young friend.”
“Here you go, a snifter of seltzer and a glass of ice. Dan, I have a question about that ladder…”
“Before you ask that question, Skippy. Can you please get me three cherries?”
“Oops, see, I told you – frazzled. Be right back.”
“Off you go. Cherries.”
“Here you go, David.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“You had a question about the ladder, Skippy.”
“I did. I mean I do. I mean, isn’t a sixteen-foot ladder only eight-feet long?”
“A sixteen-foot extension ladder would be about eight-feet long, Skippy. The ladder I’m talking about is actually one half of a thirty-two-foot extension ladder.”
“Gotcha.”
“I want to ask how on earth Skippy knows about extension ladders. Those things are heavy, Dan. How did you manage to get it up on the wall?”
“I used my crane.”
“Of course, how silly of me.”
“David, in answer to your question, my Dad is a painter. Well, he’s a schoolteacher, but he paints houses during the summer. Sometimes I help him.”
“I see. Then perhaps you can explain why Dan has half a ladder hanging on his wall?”
“I was going to ask him that, David.”
“I use that ladder section as the frame for the ladder-lift I made to move shingles up to the roof.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t just build a bigger crane, Dan.”
“Now you’re being silly, David. Except, the ladder section could be attached to the scaffolding, and…”
“Skippy, bring him another Corona before he starts drafting plans on a napkin.”
“No problem.”
“I have to ask, Dan. Where do you store your crane?”
“The boom is easily removed. I hang that on the side of the scaffold. Then the scaffold rolls over two large toolboxes. I could disassemble the whole thing, but this way is easier, and I can still use the hoist.”
“What for?”
“Unloading my trailer – that is the reason I built that rig in the first place.”
“Here’s your beer, Dan. I guess when you get older, you have to worry about lifting things, losing your balance and stuff like that.”
“That’s true, Skippy. Unlike when you’re younger and your only worry is insulting your customers and ruining your tip.”
No Facilities 
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