From the third stool of the Anchor Bar

was sitting on the third stool of the Anchor Bar on Cannery Row when a friend of mine named Ralph walked in and sat down next to me and bought me another beer.

I knew something was up, so I asked him what the beer was all about. I found out he wanted a ride to the airport the following day for himself and Mary, his girl friend.

I agreed.

It had been a rough winter and it wasn’t over yet, but he was through with winter fishing and needed a break. He had done well for himself. He and his girlfriend were headed to Hawaii for 10 days.

The next day I dropped the pair of them off at the airport with no bullshit or fanfare and went about my business.

Three days later I was assigned barstool duty again at the Anchor and lo and behold! In walked Ralph.

“What happened?” I asked. “I thought you and Mary were supposed to be in Hawaii.”

“Mary won’t speak to me anymore after I threw her into the swimming pool,” he said.

I didn’t give it much mind and we discussed a few things about local business. I finished my beer and left. The incident was pretty much out of my mind until I spotted Mary about three or four weeks later at Tony’s Bar.

I greeted her and we started talking.

When I told her that Ralph had mentioned throwing her into the pool and that she seemed like a poor sport about it, she tensed up like a clock spring.

She looked straight at me.

“When he threw me into the pool,” she said. “We were standing on a third story balcony!”




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