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Dear Phil,

it's holiday time again and I thought I would give you the gift of a good story. Merry Christmas, Phil.

My parents and I went out for dinner one night. I don't remember where we were going, but it must have been downtown (Toronto) because we parked in one of those eight-storey dealys that make you dizzy trying to get to the top. Luckily we didn't have to go that far up; it was nine o'clock and the second floor was pretty much deserted. In fact there was only one other car visible from our spot. I remeber this because my mom pointed it out to us (she likes cars and car racing). I on the other hand know very little about automobiles, but from the way my mom was going on about it and from the look of it, it was one fine stick-shift. It was nailpolish red, and had recently been waxed; it gleamed under those terrible parking complex lights. The hood had a long smooth slope to it, that gave the car a sleek bird-like appearance. My dad made a joke about the back seat of his cressida being good enough for my mom twenty years ago and then we went to eat. Dinner was excellent, and we are a chatty family, so we probably didn't get back to our car until midnight or so. As we were approaching our spot I heard a woman's voice in distress. Being the do-gooder I am, I rushed ahead to assess the situation. As soon as I turned the corner I saw a man and a woman on the hood of the red car - but now there was a shitty car parked beside it. My first thought was that she was being raped, but it didn't take long to see that they were just fucking. The woman was completely clothed in a short black skirt and a white collared shirt, she was wearing a pair of black pumps and her panties were around her ankles. The man seemed to be casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. They didn't notice me, immediately. But, when we got in the car, the sound of our doors must have frightened them - they immediately got off the hood, got into the shitty car and sped away.
On the way home we made up stories about the amorous couple. I liked my Dad's the best. He said that the woman probably worked at one of the restaurants near by and that the man (her boyfriend) came to pick her up. When he parked he noticed the nice car and got the idea. On the walk from the restaurant back to the car, he persuaded her. Feeling frisky and glad to be off work, she agreed. My dad also thinks that they didn't hear us, but had finished and were on the way home anyway. He swears that they only sped up when they saw our headlights go on as they passed us. Who knows?

Ahh, I remember O'Learys well, having spent a steady portion of Wednesday nights there from 1993-96. And the Delta Brunswick is always open for business, it seems.

So Phil, you are an O'Leary's visitor hey? I am from Saint John (I'm here right now) and living in Halifax. I have never come across you, but your exploits seem to follow me from city to city. You lead an extremely interesting and somewhat intriguing life. This story is great. I live about 5 minutes from O'Leary's on Princess Street so I can picture the scene. Now I'm left wondering if I saw you and your newest lady?? And I think I was the people walking by you while you were in the car...I match the timeline you set. I was talking to people right behind the bar on Canterbury Street. Seems like you get lucky wherever you go.

That was a lame story. Too wordy. Leave the story telling to Phil. He's the best at it.

yea, it was pretty long. but, i like it anyway.

i like it too, my favourite detail being the panties around the ankles.

thank you kate, and happy new year to you ~~

you know,

i wish my boyfriend would be into doing crazy shit like that. then again, i never asked.

s.