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Thursday, January 22, 2015

“Chance Encounter” (part 2)
           
            I glanced back at her business card one more time, “Bad Apple” what the hell does that have to do with a sports bar I thought again. Was she from New York? Was she just a bad apple? One way or the other I was on the case, and I’m not even a cop. Here I was a pretty good looking guy, successful, 44 years old and my stomach was in knots. I smiled to myself at the little autograph I had just handed her son. “To Mommy, from Jake Rutland, your biggest fan”. I wondered what she would think of that. Who was the fan of who…I’m so clever at times?
            I looked over at her table where she had sat and wished she was still there, wished we had more time. I stole a glance at the corner where she and her son had disappeared hoping to see her appear. I took a big breath and order a drink, my next move would need courage. I loved sports and this being summer I was sure a ball game would be on, and I had just the right place to watch. Looking again at my laptop and noticing that I had accomplished absolutely nothing today, but fall in love I decided to Google “The Bad Apple”
            Seems to be a hot spot for tourists and people on the go. Whatever the hell that means. I always thought if you’re on the go why would you sit in a bar or restaurant? Reviews talked of great foods and drinks. I suddenly had a craving for a ginger ale and Poutine. For those of you who are not familiar with Poutine, it’s a Quebecois favorite. French fries and brown gravy mixed with curds of cheese. I looked at the directions and map and knew it was only a few miles from where I sat, my stomach twisted.

            Get a grip Jake I thought. I closed my laptop and walked over to a taxi stand, ok I’m lazy, but rich and famous people don’t walk? Do we? Was I even in those categories? The cab pulled out and away we went for my chance encounter with a Goddess. I looked at her business card again and realized there was no name. Just “The Bad Apple” address and phone number. We pulled up to a building that looked to be 200 years old made of huge stones. Thoughts of a castle or fortress came to mind. In front, windows that must have been in 25 foot sections greeted me. My heart raced.

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