TinyLittle Fingers

A-

I found out today that a women I knew somewhat briefly when I first moved out here, but lost touch with a while back, had died. From the one account I have she apparently took her own life. Her name was Shelley, and though I cant say that I knew her very well I am a little blown away by this news. She was a bartender at a place in Oakland called Bigum's Silver Lion, a short walk from my old home. Though I went there a bunch, it stands out now as the bar I went to the night the Bosox won the world series. It was Shelley who poured me the first of many rounds on the house that night and helped me keep the jukebox playing the Pogues (each time the word whiskey was shouted in a song she would pour us both another round). For the short while that I knew her, She never called me by my name but by the nickname I earned that night: Boston. A name I was proud to wear: "Boston, how the hell are ya kid." She also used to say that I was her future x-husband. However this isn't what it seems, and we never went past friendship. Unfortunates the last time I saw her was not her best night, and a friend and I were somewhat scared off by the whole thing. I've often wondered if this was fair of us and even more so now think that perhaps we could have been better friends. Im sorry Shelley if we judged to harshly.

There isn't very much I can say or really want to say other than what I remember about her, It is not my place and I have too many mix feelings about everything. I am left with only the feeling that I am very thankfully for my friends and family whom I know would be there if I were ever in trouble, and that they have my promise of the same.

Goodbye Shelley, god speed.

z