Part ‘Iwo: Zush

I had just moved back to Victoria after
spending a few years abroad. Fletch
happened to be visiting around the
time I got back.

When we were in high school, our friend’s mom
named her cat after Fletch. Since then, Fletch claimed
odd parallels between the cat’s life and his. I couldn’t
list any of these parallels, but I truSted that they exiSted.
Anyway, Fletch insiSted we try to find his feline namesake
since, in cat-years, the animal would have been much
older than Fletch, and he hoped that by observing the
cat, he could catch some glimpse into his own future. We
scoured the neighbourhood where the cat could have
roamed but did not find him and soon gave up. InStead,
we talked about our other {riend’s mother whose nervous
syStem was being deStroyed by an incurable disease.

I had a family dinner to attend at a Chinese reStau-
rant we had frequented since I was a child. I wasn’t
going to miss that on account of searching for a cat that

was known to disappear for

lt was a routine that weeks at a time. Before I left

we could trust, that we for dinner, Fletch, our other

friend, Scruff, and I agreed to

believed never failed meet at 8:30, after my family

to provide some sort finished driving chow mein
into our mouths.

Come 8:30, Fletch, Scrulf

and I defaulted to our old reli-

able routine of drinking at Smith’s Pub until it became

of entertainment.

Stale, then shuffling across the Street and around the
corner to a faux-cowboy bar where you could spill

all the beer you wanted and throw peanut-

shells on the floor. It was a routine

we could truSt, that never failed to

provide some sort of entertain-

ment. Smith’s was relatively

uneventful. However, an odd

phenomenon occurred which

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made beers cheaper than they were in the years past.
This helped us to sufficiently lubricate for the trip across
the Street and around the corner to the faux-cowboy bar.
After Fletch unwittingly used the ladies washroom we
began our pilgrimage across the Street and around the
corner to the faux-cowboy bar.

In the bar, all the seats ran along the wall, facing
towards the bar, so we wouldn’t miss any of the
action. We took a place on the wall between a
group of idiots and a group of know-nothings and
proceeded to spill lagers, eat peanuts, and ogle our
fellow patrons. The crowd was a mix of college
kids, cruise-ship passengers on shore leave,

deStitute drunks intermittently falling asleep
between sips of lager, and us a combination
of all three. We had fun watching a college kid
try to two-Step with one of the drunk women.

The woman wouldn’t let the college boy spin
her, probably because if she Started spinning she
would never be able to Stop. The bar would close
and everyone would go home, or to someone else’s
home, and she would be Stuck there, spinning, until
the end of time. The bar would open again the next
night, then close, open, close, open, and there she
would be, spinning, spinning, spinning, endlessly, a
drunk perpetual motion machine. Suddenly an
excellent midriff appeared. It had a width of
about five inches and a circumference
juSt slightly greater than the belt that
marked the bottom of its
captivating presence. The
midriff was proudly displayed
in the way a young mother