Counter Measures

Smooth talk.

Today was a day for experiment; a day to engage and commune after 72 hours locked away bleeding out the plot and first two chapters of: Collage – A Harry Flash Mystery Novel.Not much sustenance left in the fridge so it’s off to the liquor store.
Sam Adams Black Lager and some obscure but cheap IPA from Paper City Brewery in Holyoke find their way, with my support, to the cash desk.The liquor store owner drags himself away from a loiterer discussing with bile and vitriol, what Johnny Damon did, a far cry from 2004 when the popular question was "What would Johnny do?"
He ambles over and I am struck by the age of the counter on which I had just plonked my plonk. It was Formica, so that meant 50's, maybe 60's, worn smooth and colorless; edges rounded creating an irresistible tactile surface. My hand instinctively caressed it as I would a woman's back; gently, exploring, fingertips tracing silky contours.
Distracted by these thoughts I ask, “So how long has this counter been here?”
The look on the owner's face tells me instantly that I am in trouble.
In the USA, I have found that context is vitally important to understanding. If you say something that a person is not expecting, or perhaps that no one has asked before, life becomes similar to using a speech recognition program or a voice activated telephone response system:

“Hello, I’d like a number for…”
“Please say the name of the city town or state you are trying to contact.”
“Heston”
“I think I heard you say ‘Austin’ please say ‘Yes’ if this is correct.”
“No, Heston”
"I think I heard you say ‘Yes’. Please say the name of the person or business in Austin for which you require a phone number.”
“No Heston”
“I think I heard you say Noel Eston, please say ‘Yes’ if the is correct.”
“No, Heston.”
“I think I heard you say ‘Yes’. We have no listing for Noel Heston in Austin.”
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

You get the picture.
So, when I said “How long has this counter been here?" the owner of the liquor store had several options.
A humorist might have said, “About thirteen feet, same as it's always been.”
A historian might have said, “Now that is a very interesting question. Records show that this shop once functioned as a moneylender and the counter is worn smooth by ebb and flow of debt and repayment. In fact it's a little known fact that…”
A theologian would have considered the question and then raised doubt about its origin as a man made object and of its meaning.
My man made me explain it, bit by bit.
So I said,“The counter, its made of Formica.”
He gave me a dumb look.
“The pattern, it’s been worn off.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“In places it’s worn right through to the underlying brown backing.”
Incredulous stare.
“The surface is smooth and edges are rounded.”
Checks to see if the surveillance system is recording.
“It …looks…very…old. How… long… has… this… counter… been… here?”
Hint of recognition.
Sage response, “A lot of six packs have slid over this counter.”
So how long has this counter been there?
I never found out, he obviously thought I was casing the joint, or from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, or the IRS, or just some lonely old sod with nothing better to do than to buy booze and ask stupid questions.
Well at least he was right on one account.