Things just get weird sometimes...

Weird day, weird evening...strange coincidence I started my blog this morning...maybe all my days are this surreal and I just don't realize it, maybe this will help me understand better.

There's a local place I hang out, sort of a cross between a bar and a restaurant. They have music most evenings, and the people there are nice. Mostly.

I called them a couple of months back to try and set a reading for National Poetry Month, and emailed them, never got a response on either. Maybe I'm not their cup of tea, I dunno. I'd rather hear "no" than silence, but that's my worldview, I can't hold others to account for my concept of manners. Anyway, I digress.

About two weeks ago I was in there, drinking iced tea (yes, iced tea, I don't drink beer) and one of the servers skipped up and asked me what I was doing. I've become something of a fixture in there, even to the point the picture of me featured in a recent newspaper article was taken there, and the interview was conducted at my favourite table.

I told her I was writing (true). She asked what I was writing, craning her neck. I told her I was writing poetry (true)...then she asked me to write a poem about her.

I don't usually write on command, I find the works tend to be a little awkward and I hate putting inelegant works in the universe. I was bemused by her brass, though, and asked her if she wanted something "heavy" or "light", and when she asked I explained that the difference would be something about her that was light-hearted, or something more introspective (I was hoping for "light" and she asked for that, so I was fine. Heavy is particularly difficult on command.)

So I quickly scribbled something down, made a copy for my archives and gave it to her.

At that point another server came up (we'll get back to her later, so I will identify her by the initial "X") and told me I should write a poem about the place. I decided they deserved such a work, and that I should include it in my forthcoming book, The Morgantown Suite. So, with a little sweat and toil, I put it together, I made her a copy because she said they'd like to have it framed and put on the wall. Nice.

A few days later one of the other servers caught up with me when I was in there having an iced tea and asked why I didn't write her a poem. I told her I would if she liked, and asked if she wanted something heavy or light. She said "honest"...so I wrote a piece about her elegance, she really has a certain air to her, very mature and elegant. I gave that to her.

A day or two later I'm sitting at my table, having some chips, when a 4th server sits down beside me and asks what I am up to. She's never done that before, so I ask her flat out if she was feeling left out over the poems. She said yes, but that she didn't want to seem greedy. I told her I would write her something (it ended up a little bit better than most of the others, I actually put some thought into it, as I knew something of her as a person as a result of some things she told me that evening.)

A fifth server who had been hanging out with me a lot when I was at the bar, she made some offhand comment about the poems a few days later, so I told her I would write her one, if she wished. I am not sure, but I think I did write one and gave it to her...I'd have to look it up to see what I wrote.

Finally "X" came up to me the other day and asked why she hadn't gotten a poem...oh, great. I told her I'd write her one. She told me she was leaving town at the end of the semester and I'd better hurry. I wrote something the next day, but have not seen her since the discussion.

This evening I go into the place to meet my brother for tea and chips, and the manager (who still hasn't responded to my emails or calls regarding a reading, not that it matters...NPM has been over for a week) takes me aside and cautions me that I should not be writing "those kind of poems" to his servers (he said he'd read "a couple"). I was flustered but told him that a) I didn't think there was anything indecent about any of the works and that b) all or nearly all were by request (4 out of 6 were solicited, the other two were done after I asked if they wanted me to include them). He told me that if anyone requested a poem I should tell them that I wasn't allowed and that is wasn't right for a (his words) "man of your age" to be writing that "sort of stuff" about young women. There was a not so vague threat of my being asked to leave if I did not comply. Hey, it's his place and I never break house rules, even if I think them a bit bizarre.

I turned back around to place my order (this entire discussion took place in front of two of the servers...)...I thought a moment, then begged off my order and left. I called my brother and explained the cancellation, then called a writer friend of mine I was going to meet there tomorrow and we rescheduled for another day and location. And, despite my fondness for the atmosphere, I am not going back. I am not sure what was read into those works, or what political dynamic between his employees had come from the works, but I certainly do not want to be creating a problem for those servers...and I do not like being accused of unsolicited poetry, or even sexual harassment.

So, X, if you read this and want you poem, drop me an email and I'll get it to you.

And, now I have to find a new place with iced tea that I like.

Bummer. And I feel bad for anyone who was so offended by what I wrote (I looked over it all, nothing even mildly offensive (and you're talking to a guy who has taught Sunday School, is an ordained minister and does not use four letter words in his works), and I had not said or done anything to anyone outside of the poetry) that they had to bring about such a reaction. Maybe I do need to hie myself back to Los Angeles, where an artist sans guitar still has some license to appease requests without being accused of indecency (I note around town you can sing about anything you want, but writing is a different matter in this subculture).

And as for the poem about the establishment, I'll leave it to my handlers to decide whether or not to include it in the forthcoming book...I had considered asking them to host the release party...but while I don't stay angry, the place seems somewhat tainted to me now, so that's a no-go. Too awkward, I'd rather not take the risk of getting further down a slippery slope where I can be accused of anything inappropriate for my age. Sigh.

Well, we see if tomorrow is so surreal.