Aromas

"We can go to the new restaurant the skunks are openin'!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yup. It's called, 'Aroma.'"

-- a line from Town Mouse, Country Mouse

--

I'm sitting in a plush sofa with corduroy cushions, enjoying a very tasty Almond Joy Mocha Frappe. There are stacks of golf magazines on the coffee table in this cozy little coffee shop in west Cincinnati. They also sell gelato; I will sample it soon.

Teresa is beside me, reading from The Guinness World Book of Records. I remember buying a paperback copy of the 1997 edition of this fine publication. I ordered it from one of the flimsy-papered book catalogs from elementary school. The pages of the book were also flimsy, not quite as wispy as Bible pages, but close. Thin. This copy is thick, its cover a shiny (and sickly) green color, its pages glossy. At that time, Independence Day was the highest-grossing movie to date, and also the most expensive. The book cost me four dollars.

"Hermit crabs have the most chromosomes," she says, matter-of-fact. "They have 127 pairs. Humans have twenty-three."

"That's crazy," I say.

We are between shows. After this afternoon's show, we drive north to Sandusky. If it doesn't rain tomorrow, Cedar Pointe roller coasters will still roll and coast, and we will all get some sun.

--

Last week, in a list:

THURSDAY - Saw A Little Night Music, presented by the New Stage Collective, which now has gone bankrupt. It was one of this poor theatre's (poor as in Grotowski, not economy) final nights of existence, its swansong musical.

FRIDAY - Saw the Reds beat the Cardinals. Conflict of interest for me, who has considered the Cards "my team" for a decade. I once saw Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa hit home runs in the same game. In St. Louis. This game wasn't nearly as exciting, but I could drink and eat unlimited concessions from the box-seat area.

SATURDAY - Drove to Hillsdale for commencement. Warned my girlfriend about possible offensive statements in the speeches, and had to apologize because they didn't deliver. Nice ceremonies, fun families. Plenty of time with friends that night, an entire dirty thirty of PBR obliterated one by one, and not a few deep talks. Missed Hillsdale a lot that night. Also turned twenty-three.

(Twenty-three is also the number of chromosomes we have.)

SUNDAY - Drove to Dayton to celebrate my girlfriend's birthday. Dined with her family and talked with her grandmother. Drove to Cincinnati and fell asleep in the living room after watching a few early episodes of Whose Line is it, Anyway? and deeming them awkward, like a spastic baby trying to run.

--

Seriously, this Almond Joy Mocha Frappe is delicious. It's the candy bar in frappe form. Almond Joy was the first candy bar I liked, because my dad would buy them in bulk (from where, I dunno) and store them in the freezer. He had to keep moving them, because I kept finding them and eating them--gnawing them, thawing them.

They also sell photos here. These line the walls, two long rows of black and white, each tagged at twenty bucks. A regular says they are taken by photography students at the local college. I can only assume the pottery for sale in the corner are also student-made.

My digital camera is funny. I have worn out the batteries, and rather than giving me the usual "No battery" screen, it simply says, "Change your batteries."

Not a bad idea, whoever you are, whatever's been charging you. Change them; switch 'em out. Coffee shops are great for that: So many orders and aromas.