The server

DSCN1371
Originally uploaded by Cameron/Duff.

When she discovered I was thirty-two, she was surprised and told me I looked much younger. I did not pay this comment much heed, but later when the boys had gone for cigarettes, to the bathroom, and back to the room for more money, she leaned over and asked "Seriously, what's the secret to staying youthful?" She asked this in her Upper Maine accent that was so strong I often thought she was joking. I had to watch myself or I would unconsciously start imitating her. I shrugged, and said "I don't know, stay happy. and be careful with the boose." I don't know what possessed me to add this. Her eyes flicked down to her third (fourth? fifth?) scotch of the evening, and she leaned back in her chair. "Yah," she said, "I should be careful." Why did I respond at all? I think I look about 32, not so much younger. At twenty-five she didn't look old, but there was a tangible sadness about her- a deep weariness. I felt like I saw the marks that would grow into the unmistakable scarring of the long term alcoholic, and maybe I wanted to warn her. Presumptuous, yet as the evening unfolded, I did not envy her road.