The other day, my friend Paula came to town, and I've referred to it so often now that you're probably expecting her to have a Pope hat.
Paula was my coworker in Seattle, then my friend in Seattle, then my housemate in Seattle. The only thing we didn't do was fall in love. We are both prickly people. It'd have never worked out.
She was here only for a day, so I took the day off, and she called pretty early. "I'm five minutes away."
See. I didn't know her actual itinerary. I figured she was flying in that day, and would be there middle-of-the-day-ish, and that is how I do things. I sort of wait for the information to wash over my way. I know others would have demanded the itinerary and committed it to memory, but I was perfectly happy to hang around the house till she showed up.
So she showed up. I was in a towel.
...I just spent the last 15 minutes trying to download some bad '70s porn music for you, and what's unfortunate is now my iTunes has tons of bad '70s porn on it that I will someday have to explain away when people are over.
We need to market downloadable '70s porn music.
Anyway, she showed up and was unimpressed with my sexy towel. Mostly she was in it for Edsel. She loves dogs. Even Edsel.
We went to lunch--Paula and me, not Edsel and me. I took her to the fancy pretentious corner-bar-looking place I told you about the other day, and I am pleased to inform you that I found on the menu a fried chicken and mashed potato sandwich. Except they call their sandwiches "crusts."
They call their side dishes "And"s. I am not making this up. You spend the first 20 minutes just trying to figure out what the damn menu is telling you.
Paula told me about taking her husband Roooooosenberg, ("John Roooooooosenberg, please dial extension 99.")
(A whole two of you asked me to make a video of this yesterday, after I told you the story. If you didn't read yesterday you are likely hanging yourself at this point.)
She told me about taking him to a fancy restaurant in Seattle, and it was three hours and, like, seven courses. You didn't order. They called you a few days in advance to ask if you had any food problems. Then you got there and every course was a bite, basically. It was all delicious, but it was very small, each course. And each course was served on something different, like a pallet or a shiny stone.
Finally, the bill.
$500. For two people.
After that, we headed to a vintage shop I like, then we shopped for makeup, a thing Paula likes doing not at all, but I was literally out of foundation and could not stand my own blotchy self. Then we looked at shoes and Paula got some.
Basically we were so two white girls out on the town. We even got to-go boxes at lunch.
Then, because a fried chicken sandwich wasn't enough, we went to a dessert place and got cake.
"Thank god you don't always live here," I said, "I'd be big as a house." As if I'm the picture of slender.
We went back to my house so she could dote on Edsel more, declined my offer to take him, and then--oh! I almost forgot! We took Edsel on a constitutional, and I like how I am afraid to even type "walk" for fear he'll do his high-pitched barking thing, and as we walked, we ran into Ava!
Joan, the little girl who owns Ava now, was in her yard, and they both came over to say hello. Ava is so BIG now, and she has a whole wire-haired beard going on, and she's the only woman I know who can pull off a beard.
"So are you back in school?" I asked Joan, because whenever adults don't know what the fuck to talk to children about, they always opt for the school conversation. She confirmed she was back in school. "How is it?" I asked.
"Well," she sighed, pushing back her enormous hair. "I mean, I don't want to use hate, because that's a strong word."
I adore that kid. Then she asked the terrible "Where's Lottie" question that all the neighbors are asking. "BAD DOG," she shook her finger at Edsel.
I love that kid," said Paula, after we left, and it's true you can't help but love that kid. I wish she'd have told Paula her name so maybe THIS time I could grasp it.
I'd better go. I've given you obligatory kitten shot, and I am late for work.