|This is the bar, and this is Ernie, my boss. |
Best Queen Evah.
So while the bar and its denizens certainly warrant a post of their own, this isn't about Franco's. It's about driving home from Franco's after the 2 a.m. closing, and seeing into someone else's life.
|Not the real Woman on the Bench.|
She was heavier, and I only ever saw her at night.
I grew used to seeing her there when I came home from bartending. Soon, I looked for her there as I rounded the curve each night.
But then one night, as I drove toward the parking structure, I saw that the City had cut the middle out of the bench. Now it formed two seats separated by about a foot and a half of space. She was sitting up, on one of the seats. I wonder how she felt when she came around the corner that night and saw what we had done.