As I mentioned yesterday, the Port City in Portsmouth, Ohio.
Working on the book for a few days. No harm there. Yesterday, put in a marathon ten hours in the pub. Today, probably the same.
The waitstaff notice how long Philip and I have been spending.
Besides in fire and outside naked in the winter, it almost never hurts to spend inordinate amounts of time in a place. The people become normal. They’re no longer someone to serve you. They become your friends, your informers, your breaks between long swaths of work and conversations during dinner.
And they let their guard down. Not rushing around always. After putting in hours on the floor, they find a little corner to breathe…
The patrons at the bar come and go. Stay for a while.
Stay tuned…
-Noah D.
