Round a-bout, 4/29/04 3:50 PM, ya’ll said:
> Sounds like a good plan for grocery shopping, but don’t try to apply that
> logic to the liquor store. You get loaded before you go, you’ll end up buying
> the whole store.
Sound advice.
Ma Wetzel, that darling and charming Scorpio, was in town and insisted on dinner. Works for me. She pulls up in front of the ole trailer, we exchange packages, as I’m sending Mother’s Day stuff home with her, and she was dropping off about seven or eight pounds of newspaper clippings and her old [i]New York Times Review of Books[/i].
“I really want some vegetables, can we go to Threadgill’s?” she asked.
Cool. She usually asks for some place with “linen,” you know, white cloth tablecloth, napkins artful stuck in a long-stemmed water glass, that sort of place. A little out of my league these days.
We tuck into to some grub. Aquarius server. The conversation included, “You know, I had dream last night, I dreamed you cut your hair…..”
“Wake up in a cold sweat?”
She had the vegetable medley, and she allowed as how the squash and greens were actually better than her own, “This really is better than home-cooking.”
At one point, I looked up and Bubba Sean was there. He was delivering paperwork of one kind or another.
I fetched him over, and as one would expect, he was cultured and entertaining, plus he didn’t use any harsh language.
Then, seeing as how it was Threadgill’s, I paid for dinner. I don’t know why that amazed Ma Wetzel so much, I mean, it’s not like it’s an expensive place or anything. Paper napkins. Red and white check tablecloth, tacked onto the tables and covered with plastic, just a clean, easy access food place.
As we were finishing up, I got in one good line, “If you don’t clean your plate, then no dessert for you.”
I’ve waited all my life for that one.
We wandered off to Amy’s for dessert, and I dashed across the street for shot of Jo’s espresso, aiming to get it loaded up Amy’s Mexican Vanilla. One of the scoopers was an Aquarius. That’s #2. As I got dashed back, I made worried noises because Ma Wetzel was toying with Capricorn scooper guy.
“I leave her for one minute, I hope she’s not bothering you…”
We stopped by the downtown post office, not far from her hotel, so she could buy some stamps.
“It’s my office, you know, the mail box,” I was explaining.
“No pictures of you on the wall?”
Scorpio – you know – always the comedian.