bluetenere

So when I last saw Simon, he paused for a few minutes while playing the piano in his 1910 San Francisco house to tell me of Nellie. Simon was dressed in his typical daily garb of top hat, tails and pajama bottoms, with furry slippers to keep his toes warm as the house was drafty. Apparently after ten or so years Simon returned to the old bar where he used to pour us beers and ran into Nellie. Remember Nellie? Curly dark hair, ringlets almost?
Well there she was in the same bar stool she used to sit at ten years ago, apparently she never left. I mean, she goes home every night I’m sure, but then returns again the next day to pick up where she left off the night before. After this story Simon excused himself and returned to tickling the ivories.
Play on Simon.
And drink on Nellie.
Everybody keep up the good work.