Chapeaux

I had a great relationship, this year.
Which ended to soon.
Abruptly.
I left.
I got on the bus, and I left.

But let's tell this story from the beginning.
I was in Belfast, with some friends, shopping.
And then, I noticed.
Dark.
My size.
Simple, but elegant.
Love at first sight.

Unfortunately, I was too shy to act on it, so we moved on to the next shop.
But I couldn't forget.
And then, I got back.
And this time, I acted.
I bought it.
The Friendship Hat.


And we were indivisible.
At least, almost.
I brought it with me to most of the nights I had, and, as I'm not jealous, it went from head to head all night long.
It was risky, and I knew it. I could have got louses.
But then, I was lucky, and I enjoyed my time, as much as I could, and so did this hat.
It enabled us to met more people. An effective ice-breaker, I could say.

And one day, I wanted to bring it where I first saw it.
So I bought a ticket to Belfast.
But just before I got on the bus, I went to toilet.
So I took off my hat, hanging it to the door.
And in the emptiness that followed, I forgot it.
I found out my mistake too late to fix it, and when I went to the lost and found, it was gone.

After days of mourning, wondering how it was doing, who took it, if it will remain the same in its calling, I moved on.
By then, it was my very last day in Dublin, I went to Sara's place for a lunch.
"Here it is, I forgot to give it to you for your birthday."
It was a hat, more suitable for the irish weather: made out of leather, it could have taken rain.
More than happy, I took it, explaining how I lost my last one and how this new one was very welcome.


This very night, I went out with it, like in old days.
We christened it the Irish Hat.
With Bulmers, of course. We needed a real irish drink.
We could have chosen Guiness, then.
But you can find Guiness anywhere.
Bulmers is much more difficult to find.
Especially when it's named Magners outside Ireland.

It looks like the baking powder's story all over again.