time machine

 A friend is playing the music in a local bar,  a strange place, full of local office workers. Dainty women and big husky guys all drinking fancy drink constructions, all with orange slices and paper umbrellas. It is strange to see a man in a lumberjack coat daintily sipping a martini. He is not a lumberjack and he is with his girlfriend. Drinks are the kind of thing that have to be complex.

The drinks have to be complex and sweet, a sort of silly take on seduction.

The friend knows his job, playing and cutting the music, but there is no chance of catching this crowd. No chance at all.

Two girls shyly sit down at the table. They are the first to dare, and they say thank you. It is a pleasure, of course. See all the husky guys with their dates searching the place with their eyes, they would not dare to ask a strange guy with white hair whether or not a place was free. Their fancy jackets probably cost more than many other's weekly earnings.The day was a depressing mess, a fiasco- The son is in terror of something, and will not say what. The wife is angry and will not say why. Life is difficult this way.

Things are better when the mail from the lab arrives with the pictures scanned from the film sent in last week. They are of high quality, they are all worth looking at.

It is so nice to see results typical of that old Kodak film, without the pain of the darkroom work. It is now possible to take pictures as if things were in a time machine.