STARING INTO SPACE

Here I am waiting on Michael. He claims he was in the shower when I called, probably laying up next to warm flesh. What a character. Three books.

I will never forget how we met. My wife and I went to this great little Italian restaurant just down the hill from where we lived in Mill Valley at the time. It was called Baci's and tables were all crowded together but great chow. In fact, for a long time, I mourned its passing. The owner was a character and had a million schemes. The one I liked best was that he was importing these little Italian sports cars, Spiders: they were fairly inexpensive and the Californians would be scarfing them up by the truck loads. I had a Fiat Spider and I didn't think so. I could have bought a Farrari with the price of keeping it going. It was almost as bad as an MG, where you needed a British mechanic riding with you. Fiat--Fix It Again, Tony, caused a smile.

Anyway, Jackie and I were seated by this couple and they were talking. We couldn't help but overhear them: the conversation was fairly benigh. I guessed they were boyfriend and girlfriend. So, about ten minutes into the meal, I couldn't help but overhear several things and almost laughed a couple of times. This guy was really funny and then the girl said to him, "Wow, I don't know what it is but I feel really kind of frumpy tonight." The man gave a big sigh and said, "Well, you look kind of frumpy tonight." Without thinking, I immediately looked at him and said, "What, I can't believe you would say that!" If looks could have killed, I would have been a goner as my wife had this look of horror on her face. The guy looks at me and bursts out laughing. So did I and thus began this great friendship. He is the greatest guy.