豺遊民 創作者，英文譯者。曾獲得台北文學獎散文組評審獎，花蓮文學獎散文組首獎，梁實秋文學獎翻譯類譯詩組評審獎，葉石濤短篇小說閱讀心得徵文大賽特優獎。譯作包含《我是馬拉拉【青少年版】：一位因爭取教育而改變了世界的女孩》、《反轉四進制》、《擁有七個名字的女孩》、《黎明前說我愛你》、《暗夜裡的泳者》、《寫給未出生的孩子》、《治癒力》、《我讓你走》、《漫畫原來要這樣看》、《背叛的幽靈》、《綠野仙蹤》等共十八本。創作曾刊載於人間福報、中華知識經濟協會電子報、自由時報、教育部人權電子報等。 合作、活動邀約、邀稿，請寄信至luketsu@gmail.com。

943愛的鼓勵 16訂閱站台

『出來吃頓飯吧！順便找胖子。』這是來自智凱的邀約。包著慶祝我生日之名，行聚餐聊天之實，非常我們這幾個老朋友會講的話會做的事。

本來預定的時間早些，未料胖子值班只得延期；第二次時間出來適逢下雨，再延；電腦壞了，智凱來幫我修，天氣大好，不若今日吧！

胖子還沒下班，我跟智凱先來到位於中山北路上的二條通品嘗期待已久的「巧克力布朗尼」，這是店裡的招牌。

先從環境介紹起。





由於抵達的時間天色已暗，所以外觀不若白天典雅，不過倒也有別有風情。



『開始寫網誌後我才知道為什麼女孩子走到哪要照到哪。』我邊拍邊對著站在身後的智凱說。

進門。


右邊的模糊身影是一個笑容真誠而甜美的親切服務生








稍晚有表演，費用另計，後頭應該是準備室


我們座位旁的黑鴿，讓我想到Edgar E. Poe的詩「The Raven」，Tim Burton有把它改成動畫

我們上二樓看看吧！



二樓是建築師事務所，非假日才有上班，可參觀。












Cute!!

我點的布朗尼（$120）跟智凱的美式咖啡（$120）都到了。『不好意思，因為是最後一份所有比較焦，會有點硬。』她甜甜的說。



誠如服務生所說，布朗尼略硬，稍軟一點會更完美，但本質上並不影響它原有的美味。巧克力香濃微苦，直接吃或沾香草冰淇淋都非常幸福。
『吃看看吧！』
『這冰淇淋好冰』，智凱露出被冰雹砸中額頭的表情。

胖子到，我們倆照例虧他的體重跟老頭般的固執不前；仨好友，泛黃的情誼帶來溫暖。

結帳，出發吃晚餐。胖子吃素，選擇不多，就一樣愛家（Loving Hut）吧！我們走路，懶惰的胖子騎車。

走馬路，穿地下道，經過漢堡王旁的阿維的二手書店，愛家就在眼前，胖子卻不見人影。電話一打，胖子跑錯間了，我們就先去逛冷氣很強的唱片行。人生，有時候還是要忘記北極熊的苦難。

智凱不喜歡女神卡卡，我對唐妮‧布萊斯頓不熟，店裡的電影原聲帶上標示的中文名稱多數有誤，可能是參照大陸或香港方的。
胖子到了，而且已經點了餐在樓上等。

『急什麼，世界滅亡的時候你能撐得比我跟智凱還久，至少多三個月』
『三天還可以，三個月我會餓死』
『也對，你會被殭屍化的民眾當作首要美味目標。而且你吃素，大家都吃肉的時候你只能躲在暗處吃草』
智凱笑到沒法說話。

我跟智凱點的七彩飯好了。



愛家的餐點不算便宜，但是絕對能吃飽。我們都因為在門口看見一個眼鏡小男孩眼前的一大盤飯才會點這道，份量果真令人滿意。

『要不要拍我的？』胖子假裝語調平順，其實心裡的小狗搖著尾巴汪汪叫。好啦好啦。





厚～還偷點無酒精啤酒。嘴巴沒破戒思想卻早已六根不淨，不愧是我們的老朋友！



吃飽，胖子回家，我跟智凱去買電腦的開關線。回家的路上，我哼著「Always Look on the Bright Side of Life」。




老頭版


愛家官網
二條通官網



附錄一

"The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe
[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!


附錄二

〈Vincent〉by Tim Burton