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John invited me over for dinner one night of which I obliged. Then he wanted to watch Mash the TV show and I got bored. "What's tha" I asked. "It's my brother's radio head-set with ear-buds. I asked him is I could try it out and it was something. I began to dance to eighties music. His living room was too small so I went out into the street and was dancing in a not a lot of traffic back-street. People gave me strange looks because my moves were twenty feet long. John came out now and then and went back in. After - when I went back inside thirty or forty-five minutes later, he told me he denied me three times. He was asked did he know me ? Three times he said no.
The last time I saw John - and by the way, Glen's real name I remember now was John not Glen. Glen had taken over the pottery shop when I moved to Saint Helena and Santa Rosa. He was character but didn't frequent the cafe. And Steve I remember when he changed jobs and started to take the train down to Stanford, he mentioned one day at the cafe that he rode in the smoking cars. But Steve you don't smoke was said to him. And he replied that smoking cars were alive and people talked loud and everyone talked and told jokes and had a great old time. The non-smokers he said were dead souls and didn't talk much - like San Francisco today. They just all sat there mopey. Today reading their phones and now the coffee houses are even that way. Again these modern times of political correctness are so middle class frozen.
Met a guy at the cafe once who worked at Saint Lukes I think, and had an office around there and invited me over about smoking.
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