Francis
About the only thing of interest throughout my morning of volunteering was the lamp I dug up at Ditto for Rose: giant carved conquistador on his horse. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was a winner. My suspicions were confirmed even more when the other women working with me that afternoon responded to the lamp with…
“Oh … that’s … interesting.”
“That’s … well, it’s not my style, but …”
So, six of us camped out in the basement for the game that night with bowls of chili topped with sour cream, cheese, and Fritos. Only Linnea-Irish and Jaya were missing from the mix.
“Good chili, Collette,” Carrie-Bri congratulated me.
“That’s because Oxbear made it.”
I enjoy many things in life; cooking is not one of them. Doesn’t mean I don’t do it, but definitely a few cups of love and care less than what Oxbear brings to the table.
Anyway, it looked to be another one of those crazy games downtown, one of those come-from-behind wins. Between commercials, we caught up on each other’s days.
“So before class, Francis and I stopped by Starbuck’s for strawberry frappuccinos,” Carrie began. “And Francis is asleep and looks like this,” she imitated the Francis we know so well – passed out, head back, mouth hanging open. “So the guy at the window was looking at him funny.”
“Wondering if he was alive?”
“Well, I did order two frappuccinos. So then of course Francis has a strawberry frappuccino mustache on his mustache, and we get to class and he tells me he’s going to change his shirt. So I vacated the car, fast. There was no way I was staying around for that. But Francis didn’t see that there was this lady in the car next to him, so he’s changing his shirt with a strawberry frappuccino mustache while she’s staring at him. Then in class, he almost put down “positron” for an answer instead of “proton”. And on the way over here, I had the game on the radio, and he was asleep again. And every once in awhile the applause would wake him up a little and he’d be like, ‘Five… four…? How many home runs?”
This, is Francis. And he didn’t hear Carrie’s recap of his evening because he had migrated upstairs with Joe and Oxbear to work on Oxbear’s quite dead motorcycle.
Finally hit the hay sometime before eleven. I don’t get as much sleep between April and October.