Elizabeth Ann

So, I rode over to this store at the corner of East Avenue and Sabattus Street in Lewiston the other day and figured I’d stop in for old time’s sake. Ever since I moved to Lewiston, Elizabeth Ann was The Store, the place you’d go at midnight for absolutely everything you needed. You know, cheap beer, cheap smokes, Ring Dings and Funyuns for supper and scratch-off lottery tickets for your retirement plan. Every trip to Elizabeth Ann lasted five times longer than it had to because there was always so much to see there. A dude begging for change near the ice cooler, another dude getting arrested by the gas pumps, a third dude hitting on the pretty store clerk with terrible pickup lines, and a young lady getting naked at the phone booth for no good reason. Elizabeth Ann always seemed overly bright, it constantly reeked of Lestoil and you had to navigate your way through a giant maze of beer displays to get where you were going, but man, it was just a joy to shop there. Now its windows are dark, the parking lot has been ripped up and roped off and there’s a “for sale” sign hanging in the window. Across the street is yet a spanking new chain store where the floors are always clean,  the prices are higher and you almost never see any nakedness. There’s been a lot of new stuff going up at East and Sabattus, yet the character of the corner died with Elizabeth Ann, may she rest in gritty, Lestoil-reeking peace.

My flattop haircut
I want to know which one of you put Tuesday, May 28, at 3 p.m. in the office pool as your guess for when I’d completely lose it and go screaming for a haircut after three months of growing it out? Congratulations and enjoy your winnings. It was at this exact time that I went racing to Moe’s barbershop in Lewiston like a junkie who needs a fix. Hey, long hair is cool and all, but you’ve got to wash it and comb it and all that noise, and ain’t nobody got time for that.

Turner Highlands golf course for sale
What? Really? I think I’m going to buy this sucker not because I enjoy golf – I absolutely detest golf and have ever since The Incident – but because every time I cruise by there on my motorcycle, I think about what fun it would be to ride on it. The lush green hills, the pits filled with deep sand, the terrified people in goofy shorts fleeing before the dragon-like roar of my engine . . . Oh, yeah. I’m in. How much do you want for her?