There Are Only Two Things to Worry About

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Guess who I ran into again at "O'Leary's" last Friday? Yep... ex-submariner and electrical engineer, Maeve. We greeted each other like old friends, which is mostly true, since I have so few in Saint John... so far.

They'd fixed the AC, the music was just as lively, and the beer was ice-cold.

I was morbidly curious and asked Maeve a question. "Did you ever stress about being so deep underwater?"

Maeve looked at me, laughed, then took a sip of beer and wiped her mouth... with a sleeve.

"Let me tell you something, Pierre..."

"My grandmother once told me that there are only two things in life you have to worry about: either you're healthy or you're sick. If you're healthy, there's nothing to worry about."

"If you're sick, your only concern is whether you'll get better or worse. And if you get better... It's all good."

"But if you get worse, your only fear is if you're going to live or die. If you live, no worries... right?"

I took a gulp from my glass... and nodded.

"And shit. If you die, all you have to worry about is whether you're going to Heaven or Hell."

I laughed as I finished her sentence, "And if you go to Heaven, there's nothing to worry about. Except if..."

"That's right, Pierre. And WE were so deep underwater, we all knew there wasn't far to travel. But we all still worried about two things."

"And what was that?"

"Well... whether it would be a micro-second implosion, or an agonizing and... reelee slow, fucking crush."

I almost spit my beer as I laughed, while Maeve stared at me with deadpan eyes — before she cracked up as well.

"Hey Pierre, ya wanna share a big basket of fried calamari? I'm in the mood."

I smiled. I was getting in the mood, too.

When a woman suggests squid, is that a date?

• How have have any of your first dates gone ? ðŸ˜

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... an epic first date...