Day Four, 10,033 Words

I had another productive writing session today, this time accompanied by Jill on Skype.  Skype writing is infinitely better than writing alone, so I will definitely be logging on every time that I need to write with hopes of catching one of you.  The sports writers have dropped in at our favourite local watering hole, Jackie's Place.  Here's what went down:

Penny Lane had spent a few moments scanning the sports pages of To(Ron)to(!) in order to develop a working understanding of who her co-workers and fellow sports writers were.  There was Jim Jimerson, the sports photographer who was never seen without his camera around his neck and his hair fashioned in the likeness of Emilio Estevez circa a particulalry unsavoury 2008 episode of “Two and a Half Men” called “The Devil’s Lube.”  Next there was Freddy Prince Senior, a fellow hockey writer who apparently relished any opportunity to enrage Ron Tortellini by asking ridiculous and/or obvious questions.  In close company Torts might have described his relationship with Freddy as that of a “frenemy,” but only in really close company.  Todd Bigsley wrote about the Toronto Raptors, but just as no one cares about the Toronto Raptors, no one cares about Todd Bigsley.  Jacqueline Esmort was the resident Toronto Blue Jays expert who was infamous for her penchant for drawing a beard on her face with a Sharpie as an homage to her favourite slugger, Jose Bautista.  Rounding out the team was Toronto FC specialist Alejandro Puyol, the former Barcelona FC footballer whose long Tarzan-like hair curled and swirled like an angry tornado that was about to carry all of your livestock to your neighbour’s field.  There was also a woman named Sharon who had a backpack with “Sharon” spelled out in magazine clippings who Penny Lane had made the mistake of acting as if she did not know that they were friends or what her name was, thus accidentally starting a feud.  Penny Lane was not particularly bothered by this.

When the group entered Jackie’s Place they found Damien Cox sitting at the bar, sharing with an angry Jackie his suggestion that he offer sheet Roberto Luongo so that he could tend the bar and that he stop serving liquor to bring in more of a family crowd.  Even though Penny Lane had just encountered Jackie for the first time, she could tell that he was thinking about urinating on Damien Cox’s socks and holding them up to his mouth; not to save him from a noxious gas, but rather, just because.

Lucky for Jackie, Damien Cox’s moronic suggestions were interrupted by an Aerosmith cover band that seemed to be calling themselves “Broken Aero,” who were setting up in the corner.  Moments later the emotional first chords of “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” shook the mouldy panels of Jackie’s Place, and the cover band’s Steven Tyler was doing an admirable job of conveying the pain and sense of tragedy one feels when watching the infamous Animal Crackers sex scene in “Armageddon,” which is widely acknowledged to be the worst sex scene of all time.  Lucky for Penny Lane she did not need to think about that abomination of a sex scene for too much longer, since Jackie soon came over with drinks that they did not order as it was generally assumed that Jackie knew what you wanted more than you did.  Penny Lane was surprised by the presence of some jaunty Union flag crepe paper parasols that had been inserted in their late summer sips, but no one else seemed to question them.  The murky drinks were placed on personalized embellished cork coasters to protect the dirty and scuffed bar from his guests’ frosty glasses.  If Penny Lane hadn’t met Jackie, she might have suspected that he had created the stripes with masking tape and initials with vinyl letters that in no way correlated with the name “Jackie’s Place”.  Instead, she strongly suspected that he had stolen the coasters.

“I’m glad that you agreed to come to Jackie’s Place after that bloodbath, otherwise I would have to drink alone,” Jim Jimerson piped up. 

“Things got pretty awkward when Ron Tortellini started squirting his water bottle at the Maple Leafs blogger whose cell phone rang in the middle of the press conference,” Freddy Prince Senior admitted.  “I mean, yeah, he probably should have silenced it, but his child is in the hospital, to be fair.”

“I don’t think that it counts as drinking alone if you’re just thinking about somebody else,” Penny Lane admitted, drawing concerned looks from the others and an awkward silence.  Evidently alcoholism jokes were hitting a little close to home with this crew, she noted.  Jackie uttered an unintelligible grunt that sounded like it might have been in support of her statement.   She wasn’t sure, but she thought that Jackie’s thoughts might have been occupied by Chris Kirkpatrick, whose likeness (surrounded by hearts) was plastered around one booth in particular of Jackie’s Place.

The "Tiger Beat" poster that no one was ever interested in.