Hotel Suites and Back Alleys

We woke up in the plush luxury of our bed at the Tremont House with oil rigs and cruise ships and whistling grackles just outside our windows. I tried to take in the details that make these rooms so enticing to me, the tall ceilings, the hardwood floors, the glass tables whose four legs have little copper hooves, like sheep that might run around at night to a rhythm meant to put us to sleep. In the end I settled for painting one of the doorknobs. I felt mildly satisfied, as if I’d absorbed some of the essence of the room. Still, checkout came too early. And wanting to stay on Island to hang out with our friend, Holly and I went from being princesses to being virtually homeless. Welcome to our vagabond lives!

Easter weekend is not a good time to seek outdoor nourishment in the company of a mildly aggressive dog on tourist-swarmed Galveston Island. I’m afraid I had words with the humans of a pair of Jack Russel terrors who wouldn’t leave us alone. Other than that though, the logistics of seeking out food places that are mildly peaceful and allow beasts were actually rather inspiring. If it was so hard for us to go someplace with Holly, where, we wondered, would Cornelius have been able to take Betty back in 1961? Betty, of course, was not a dog, but given their relationship and the times they lived in, a canine dining companion would have been a lot less shocking.

In the end, we ended up at Trattoria la Vigna, at a nice, quiet table, in a nice, quiet alley. And we figured that was just it. Cornelius would dine with Betty in the back alley of a restaurant where friends of his worked and could serve them on the sly. Hidden from view, he’d be able to treat her to candlelight, romance, and fresh seafood. Perhaps, over grilled snapper, or maybe later, over dessert, he’d say: “I’m gonna take you to Paris so we can live like people.”

On a side note: I got all of my paintings from Tangerine, as I’m replacing them with brand new stuff to fit the newly remodeled store! They’re all in the trunk of my car. Except for Betty. Betty sitting on the moon talking to Cornelius, the first Betty I made back in January, she’s nowhere to be found. As always, it’s Betty who’s the troublemaker. It just fits!

Leave a Reply