I went into the office in Boston today for work, after which I met a friend from out of town in Burlington, Massachusetts, a friend I actually first met while staying in Salem for A Season with the Witch. He lives in Minnesota, but every once in a while he briefly swings through New England and we get together for a night.
I arrived in Burlington a little bit early, so I went to the local Barnes and Noble there. For two reasons. One, to see if they had any Halloween book tables out. And, two, to see if they were stocking any of my books.
I’ve written before on OTIS about my love for Halloween book tables. It’s when the staff gathers all the spooky books off the shelves and puts them together in a display. At this particular B&N, they had created a children’s Halloween book table already. Which, honestly, is better than any other kind of Halloween book table. Cover illustrations are the best thing about books. And I say that as an author.
Oh, and, no, the store wasn’t stocking any of my books. Because it’s run by extremely wise business people. And I say that as an author.
Eventually, I met up with my friend for dinner at Tavern in the Square (known colloquially, gauchely, and hilariously as TITS)…and had my first pumpkin beer of the season. Possibly my last.
And that’s because I hate beer.
Not in the say way I hate coffee (see the September 8 entry). I just never could develop a taste for it. I’ll ruin my life with cocktails and drink wine like a Roman, but beer will sit in my fridge until it’s time to get a new fridge. Which bums me out during this time of year because pumpkin beers have the most evocative seasonal labels.
I demolished the sugar and cinnamon rim. Barely finished the beer.
My ride home was a dark and stormy night, and I burst through the front door to the leers of orange jack-o-lanterns and white skulls. That’s my kind of homecoming.
Also my wife leering at me…for the take-out I’d brought back to her.