"Did she tell you about that?" he asked.
"Yes she did."
"Who told you first? Me, or her?"
"I really don't recall."
"You don't? Because I would think you would remember something like that, because it's me."
"Well next time, I'll be sure to make a note of it. I don't know."
"I was real good when I saw her, you would have been proud. I said hi, and left her alone."
"Well that's good."
"She was with someone, he looked smart."
"That was probably her husband D," L said. They moved on to other topics. L started to tell me about it on Monday when I stopped her to confess I'd actually heard the whole thing from behind them.
This past Friday, L missed the train and I stopped by CVS on the way in to the office. When I came out, I ran into B, who said hi and seemed about to move on, until he said, "Hey. Kellnerin." A broad smile came over his face. "I didn't bother you when I saw you at the Chinese restaurant," he said with obvious pride.
"I figured, it was your own time, I didn't want to intrude."
"Um, yes. That's great. Was good seeing you," I said, as I backed away.
MY SISTER HAS A NEW job downtown -- coincidentally the same building that my company used for temporary digs while our permanent space was being renovated. We met up for lunch after I got out of my half day of work on Friday.
"Damn, I was going to bring you chalk," I said after we'd met up and finished the "so where do you want to eat" conversation.
"No thanks, that's a little dry for my taste."
I explained about the sidewalk art festival, and how I'd snagged the leftover chalk for her kids. Next time. We ate at a place across the street from her building, then she took me back for a tour of her offices. They're pretty swank. When we were waiting for our lunch orders to come out, standing by the pastry case, I'd mentioned how we used to get cakes for birthday parties at another branch of the same cafe, that has since closed. "But hey, now you have one across the street from you, and can get stuff from here for parties!"
"Oh, they get pretty fancy with the catering," she told me. Her first staff meeting, she was told that breakfast would be provided. She figured muffins, donuts, the usual. Instead, it was quiche. "All it was missing was an omelet station with a guy to cook your eggs to order."
Anyway, she showed me their kitchen area, which had an espresso machiine. "Cappuccino? Latte?"
"Hmmm." I surveyed the choices. "I'll have an abomination, I guess."
"Regular or decaf abomination?"
She pushed the button for "latte" on the "Regular" side of the machine, and liquid came foaming out into a cup. And up over the top of it. "I think I'll have the cappuccino," my sister noted.
WE WENT OUT FOR DINNER last night; on the way to the restaurant we passed a gas station that had a sign out front saying:
THIS MORNING we went to a local diner for brunch. There is a sign on the door that claims that they serve "breakfast only" but they are pretty serious about what breakfast entails. One of the specials they had on the board was called a "Boot Mill Sandwich." D asked what it was.
"It's a breakfast sandwich, with hash browns inside the sandwich. It's awesome," the waitress told us, sounding like she meant it. D ordered it.
"That sounded interesting," I noted when the waitress had left.
"Yeah, and besides, she said it was awesome."
When it came, I admit, I really was in awe. It had a layer of hash browns, on top of which was a thin layer of ham, eggs, more ham, more eggs, and melted cheese. The hash browns kept escaping a D tried to eat it.
I had the Coffee Roll French Toast, which was one of those spiral sticky things, sliced in half and french toasted. It was excellent.
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