These Times

The sweetest words a parent can hear from a child: “I’m glad I was born and I’m glad I was born to you.”

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At the tavern where I play pingpong, there’s a regular there who works as a waiter and bartender at a restaurant in Olympia. A few months ago, I introduced myself to him. He replied, a little startled, “We’ve met many times. I served you drinks last night.” That wasn’t true in all the ways something can’t be true, but he insisted it was true. After some back and forth, I asked whether this man who wasn’t me was a good fellow. “No. Awful tipper,” he replied with a hard look. We haven’t...