According to my typed draft from 1999, it went through several revisions, and I finally stopped rewriting it in December of that year; and, although there are parts I'd like to change, I chose not to edit it again today.
There's melodrama, and blunt honesty, but also kindness...
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He sits there at the counter, his legs dangling gracefully around the bar stool. He orders a glass of yellow beer, and hamburgers; and waits. I see him light a cigarette and blow the smoke through his nostrils.
A man is restocking the live lobster tanks over in the corner: Norman turns his head and watches. And smiles at someone's conversation.
His face and hands are grizzled and begrimed by black grease. He wears a pale blue work shirt, open at his throat in a sharp V. His pants look as if they are part of a uniform. His clothes are dirty and greasy - I have never seen them otherwise.
Norman watches the big TV in the corner on the wall; commercials seem interesting. He becomes engrossed in the television, pausing only for a drag on his cigarette. He downs another glass of beer in one swallow. I hear his soft mellow voice. He's talking to one of the waitresses. I wonder why. He always seems like such a quiet man.
Norman's face is a somewhat hollow, worn face. His mouth, surrounded by a week of unshaven beard, is thin, but the upper lip has two distinct curves. Nothing at all could be said about his nose; it is a normal one, and not worth mentioning. His eyes are deep-set in his face, very hollow eyes, and they are always rimmed with black. He has dark hair but he is nearly bald on top. He always wears a teal-colored cap, and I honestly think he looks better with it than without it.
Norman's food arrives, and he eats; adding another beer to wash it all down. I wonder if he ever drinks water. He lights another cigarette and rests his chin on his hand.
I wonder where Russell is. Russell is almost always with Norman, and he does not talk much, so I call him "Norman's shadow". No, the shadow did not come tonight; and Norman is alone, and looking lonely.
Greg comes in and talks to Norman. They smile and laugh like best friends; maybe they are. I watch as Greg walks away. Norman looks at the lobsters again.
He orders a pie and laughs with the waitress. It's an apple pie; that must be his favorite, I think to myself.
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