I spent the day at the lectures and the reenactment of some obscure civil war battle. It was a lot more fun than it sounded. I wandered through the encampment looking through my camera but not shooting anything. I knew the frustration of the old time photographers who couldn't waste shots. It cost them a lot of time and money. Come to think of it the same was true for me. There was a lot of time money and inconvenience with each shot. So each shot had to mean something. No, I didn't have the same hassles as the old time photographers but I had enough to get a healthy respect for them.

I knew for a fact that when I got home, I would be looking for a camera backpack. I would also be making more cardboard film holders. I wanted to shoot more than three exposures so I planned to make at least a half dozen more film holders.

I hung around and helped out where I could until the camp was struck, then I said my goodbyes and left. I had to give my email to several people before I could get away. I figured it couldn't hurt, email was free and easy to delete.

The drive home was uneventful until I got back into town, I stopped at the local all night breakfast cafe for eggs, even though it was only ten PM. I liked eggs and sausage before bedtime. I was splurging on my calories for the weekend. Come Monday it would be back to the semi starving routine.

"Abba, I thought maybe you really were dead. I haven't seen you in months." The voice belonged to the red headed waitress name Francis."

"I've had a rough month Francis."

"Yeah I heard," she replied.

"Oh how is that?"

"Cops talk, you know that. For some reason they thought I would be interested."

"Well, they must be the ones who listen to rumors," I suggested.

"Yeah, I suppose so. So what you having? the big man special?"

"Not tonight, I think just one egg scrambled soft, one patty of sausage and one piece of toast."

"You still drink coffee don't you?" She seemed to take it personal that I was eating about a third what I would have before the heart attack.

"Yeah, black."

"Good, I thought maybe they had taken your balls in that hospital."

"I'd rather be dead than drink decaf." I said that smiling at her.

I was about halfway into my eggs when Francis said, "Abba, the kids are with my ex. I get off in about a half hour. You want me to swing by your place for a visit?"

I had to scramble for an answer. I told myself that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I wondered it that was really true or if on some level I had decided on the Waffle and Egg at that time of night, on the off chance Francis might be working. I decided that I probably had thought it on a level maybe a little high up that subconscious. "That's an idea. I can put on some decent coffee. This stuff is awful."

"I know your coffee, I'll bring a couple cups of coffee from here." She smiled showing her not so white teeth. That was true of almost everything about Francis. She was a natural redhead, but it had been toned down by the mixture of gray in her hair. She had large breast once, but time had deflated them a great deal. Francis was almost a beauty, but instead she was mildly attractive in a worn down kind of way.

"Fair enough, by the way I don't live where I did last time you came by to visit."

"Then hang around and I'll follow you. I need to move my car anyway. You can never tell someone may come looking for me."

I finished the eggs and two more cups of bad coffee while I remembered how I had met Francis. It seemed that my whole life revolved around the job. Most of my friends and acquaintances came from the job somehow.

I met Francis at the Waffle and Egg. She was a waitress then just as she was at the moment. The big difference was that when I met her five years before she had just left her husband. We laughed for a few weeks before she followed me home the first time. Even then it probably wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't got the domestic disturbance call at her home. When I got there she and her ex were going at it pretty good. She had a couple of bruises but he had just as many. Francis was no shrinking violet.

I split them up once my backup arrived. The female officer took Francis off to the side while I talked to her husband. "Matt listen to me. You don't want to be hitting on Francis. If keep it up someone is going to the hospital and someone is going to jail."

"Officer Abba, I swear she hit me first."

"That maybe true but she weighs about 135 lbs I would say, and you would go about 200, When it gets to the judge, he is gonna laugh his ass off. And you are going to do some serious time. Now you know some of these judges eat at the waffle and egg. They probably all know her, and have no idea who or what you are. If she gets your ass in court, you are going to jail. Next time you better leave when she looks like she wants to start getting physical."

"Yeah, I guess you are right."

"She doesn't want to press charges," the backup officer said.

"Fair enough, Matt you need to get the hell out of here."

The next time I saw Francis at the Waffle and Egg she invited herself over after work. I can say this about that encounter, I know why Matt accepted the bruises. Francis was a very physical lover. She got right into it, on every lever. She was unintentionally violent in some ways. It was exciting to say the least.