See YA Later Doris

This morning I woke up around 5:45 . I hadn’t slept much at all . Sundays in this town are not the same. My regular cafe haunts are not open and for some reason ;sitting at a Tim Hortons is not the same; but I needed a coffee. I have instant coffee at home ; but that doesn't have the same kick as a steaming hot cup of java.

I walked up my street ; passed the local drug store and stopped into Tim Hortons. I ordered my extra large double-double and sat down; pulling out my journal .

I had only started to write when I felt eyes burning the back of my head . I turned around and there was a granmotherly type woman looking over my shoulder.

“So , you like to write do you ? ” she said
“Yeah I do ” I answered
“Well then ; if you like to write; maybe you should say the words as they were meant to be said ”
“What do you mean ?” I asked
” When I asked if you liked to write ; you answered “Yeah I do ” . You should have said “Yes I do”
“Everyone says something in slang ” I told her.
“Well ! I am not everyone and neither are you. I am someone and so are you” she replied
“What do you like to write about ? What\’s your name ? I like to know who I am having a conversation with. I am Doris” she added
“My name\’s Joe and I write about whatever is on my mind” I said
“Well then Joe ; it appears nothing is on your mind this morning. There is barely anything written down ”

I wondered ; how could I write anything down when I had this woman talking to me . To talk to her and write would be rude.

“I am 83 years old Joe and I still keep a diary. I\’ve been writing in in since I was a child.”

Doris went into her handbag and pulled out a burgundy book with some embroidered design on it. It had a little brass button and gold cord to fasten it shut.

The journal I have with me today is nothing more than a binder with lined paper in it.

“That\’s a very nice diary Doris ” I said
“It\’s not about the paper or the pens you use to write Joe. A nineteen cent pen can convey the same messages and thoughts as one of those fancy gold pens ” Doris remarked

I wondered if there was still nineteen cent pens .
“I will leave you alobe to write Joe . I have people waiting at a table for me . I hope I didn\’ bother you ”
“Not at all Doris. It was nice talking to you”

Doris walked over to her table where another woman and gentleman were sitting .

“See ya later Joe ” she said as she walked from my table
“Hey Doris” I said “If you are going to say something; maybe you should say the words as they were meant to be said”
She walked back to my table . “What do you mean Joe?”
“You said “see YA later” . You should have said See you later ”
She smiled and said ” Yes. You are correct-smartass ! ”
She smiled once more and went back to her table .
I wasn\’t sure what to write about. I drank my coffee-touched Doris on the shoulder as I left Tim Hortons and said “see ya later ”

“A kindly old woman ;about five foot three
Talking at the donut shop; just her and me

A diary of burgundy\’ with so many stories told
Hands full of liver spots -eighty three years old

Wrinkled hands-hair of grey
This morning was a very good day

I met Doris -a grandmotherly type
With a 19 cent pen I sit here and write

“See ya later Doris”