Half a day in St. John's

The car rental agencies close at noon
on Saturdays. On Signal Hill it's
a belting wind, freezing, a destroyer
storming into port, a white
stretch limo parks and the driver opens
the door to a turquoise bride and
her husband and the best man and his
date. Are they crazy? They stand around
determined to take pictures,
there are bare shoulders and hands
on hairdos, then they all convince
whoever it was who had the idea to
pile in again. At the newest Sobeys
in the newest part of town a young clerk has to
flatten the bar code on my blood
pudding so he can swipe it.