13 November 2011

I Only Want To Be With You

I am glad there are still some old establishments left in this world, this world so preoccupied with tearing down old shit, replacing it with new. Sonja and I got breakfast yesterday in  Sliverville's Hold Up Cafe. It is a busy place but with my old knowledge of the neighbourhood I knew we would get a table without waiting at eleven, just as the Remembrance ceremonies were getting underway around the corner outside the Legion.

The old place has warm memories for both Sonja and I. There is something about having been in a place with steamy windows that sticks to you like resin. I associate the place with hot meals eaten before a night's work and hangovers only a plate of fried perogies and onions can settle; Sonja associates the place with devilled egg sandwiches eaten with her tea swilling girlfriends after a night of dancing at nearby Humper's Cabaret or rollerskating a few blocks away at the even noisier roller rink.

We were just about to be served our breakfast when a whole team of slo-pitch players came in the door to join a couple of their team mates already holding a table for them beside us. Never seen a slo-pitch team away from the diamond anywhere besides a pub before. So right away I knew they must be Martians. Sent here to gather intelligence from where they expected to get the most fierce opposition when they finally make their spaceman move to take over our planet.

We gave up our table to the fuckers and sat down a couple tables away from where I could observe them. Never appease fascism, always appease Martians, that is the Anarchist way.

First thing they wanted to know is could they have Bailey's in their coffee. These Martians had done their homework before they arrived on the dirty boulevard the Hold Up sits on the edge of. There are few things more typical of a human to ask for than booze in their coffee for breakfast, especially a late breakfast. Too bad for them, the Hold Up only has beer, no Bailey's.

I thought they would order beer but I guess Martians must be allergic to barley or something. "Just coffees for everyone then," their coach said as one of the women on the team went out to her car and came quickly back in with a bottle of Bailey's she topped up everyone's coffee with under the fresh wiped formica table top. Once the Bailey's started to do its work they all started talking at once really loud about the arcane rules of baseball. Only the inhabitants of a planet gifted with superior intelligence to our's could understand that shit.

Later that day, still warmed by breakfast and our quality time in an old favourite place, Sonja and I sat near the fire and watched the Canucks on tv. Between periods I found the lyrics to an old song Sonja loves and I sang them to her.

I don't know what it is
That makes me love you so
I only know
I never want to let you go
Cause you started something
Can't you see
That ever since we met
You've had a hold on me
It happens to be true
I only want to be with you

It doesn't matter
Where you go or what you do
I want to spend
Each moment of the day with you
Look what has happened
With just one kiss
I never knew that
I could be in love like this
It's crazy but it's true
I only want to be with you

You stopped, you smiled at me
And asked me if I cared to dance
I fell into your open arms
I didn't stand a chance

Now listen honey
I just want to be
Beside you everywhere
As long as we're together
Honey I don't care
Cause you started something
Can't you see
That ever since we met
You've had a hold on me
No matter what you do
I only want to be with you


RossK said...

One king hell post Beer.

When I got to that line about anarchists, fascists and martians mixed together with the ghost of Neville Chamberlain half way through I thought you wouldn't be able to top it.

I was wrong.

(and who knew that gradualist anarchists could think like George Harrison too)


Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Taking up the practice of America's most prominent Anarchist, The Match! editor Fred Woodworth, I capitalize the political philosophy I find most appealing. Woodworth's reasoning? if Liberals and Conseratives can capitalize their political philosophies, why can't we?

George Harrison? You're going to have to draw that one out for me.

RossK said...

Near the end of his pretty darned wonderful life Mr. Harrison mentioned, Capra-like, that love really is all you need.


Jymn Parrett said...

I only hope you're quoting the Dusty Springfield version. A woman as fine as Sonja seems deserves only the best.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Gotcha Gazz - my knowledge of the Beatles is a little scant. The Beatles of Boogie, Brownsville Station, may have something to do with the Martians I see just about every time I visit the Hold Up.

Jymn - Nothing against Dusty Springfield but it is the tartan version of I Only Want To Be With You I was singing between bouts of laughter that nearly had both Sonja and I wetting our britches.