Stories
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He was married but I never met his wife or ever saw her and none of us did. In fact we at the cafe never met any of the women of the any of the men that hung out there. Joe at one point had an affair with a woman who was already or had been probably my boss at Stanford. Joe moved in with her I believe briefly. Until Romanta brought home another man and made noises of that kind in another room. Joe was devastated and complained bitterly at the cafe, although what buisness it was of ours I cannot say. I liked her myself, but she made it evident that she was quite too female for me.
Actually the Professor my buddy, met her at the cafe first and she gave him a job as a plasterer at Stanford, since she was hired to fix up some of the dorms. However he wasn't very good at it so she made a painter of him and hired me as the plasterer. We worked in the summer and Christmas break for a few years at good money, one of the jobs I got out of the cafe.
Jeff the artist who had painted the ceiling of the cafe of a night-time sky with lots of stars,
was only a some-timer, because he worked as bicycle delivery downtown. He was five-eight, strong and wiry, dark hair and glasses and sometime Wall Ball partner up on Winfield Street. So he was from the beginning. He had a cousin named Carl same height, a little heavier a lighter hair shade thick and wavy. One time standing in line next to him waiting to order coffee conversing and he would lean in close so that I could feel his breath on my face and after a bit he announces he is sick.
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