Ms. Bridget and Fidget (An exercise in lying)

Just to my right are two people (not featured in photo) and they will be judged as a mother and son. He is probably 50 or so and will be named Fidget. It is rude to guess a ladies age, so I will leave that to the law of averages and instead name her affectionately Bridget, or Ms, Bridget. Fidget is doing most of the talking with a few affirming interjections from Ms, Bridget, but otherwise, she is simply sitting there with a constant genuine smile. Fidget is wearing a grey polo shirt, dark khaki pants, brown leather boots that are designed for the urban jungle only, an inexpensive black watch, and a light brown suede jacket. Fidget has the shape of a regular gym goer and seems to have the energy to spare, for he is in constant motion. He is wearing black socks and is married…to Ummm…Samantha, who teaches third grade. Fidget skipped breakfast unintentionally this morning and decides to make up for it at lunch. The hardy seafood platter stacked with oysters and shrimp is his chosen meal and although it comes first, he waits, his mother’s salad was still on its way.

I will compliment Ms, Bridget, because of her strawberry blonde hair, saying that she did her very best to be someone who does not worry unnecessarily, her mane seems to untouched by the weight of such thoughts. Somehow she managed to wear the same color pants as her son but chose a more cream type turtleneck, white socks, and black Reebok shoes. Perrier is her drink of choice while he is a white wine. They continued their conversation until all the food and drink had been exhausted, and then she left to likely use the facilities and Fidget immediately got on his phone until the check arrived, he paid the check, and then weirdly walked over to the bar and took a photo of a father and daughter that seemingly had no connection to him. For reasons unknown to me the pair posed for the photo like Instagram pros…. WAIT! I think I know what happened. While I was typing they must have asked him to take a photo of them with their camera and it wasn’t as random as I thought. The first goal of this exercise is supposed to be about paying attention to detail but after taking a few seconds to type I look up and start firing off interpretations that are more than likely crazy because of that small gap in observation. That’s why the second goal of the exercise is to let fly any lie that seems to make the story a little more interesting. That is what I have tried to do.

P.s. Ms, Bridget had a gun.

“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”
-Mark Twain