Over the Backyard Fence

I met my friend Kathy for brunch today for a late celebration of our birthdays. Our birthdays are two weeks apart. We decided long ago that we would celebrate the number of years we've been friends (51), instead of facing the larger number each year.

We decided to go to Lucille's in Boulder because it has great food and it's located in an old Victorian style home, and we love both those things. Kathy arrived first and texted that the parking was terrible, so I found a spot on the street a few blocks away. As I walked to the restaurant, my path crossed with a young couple walking two gorgeous Bernese Mountain dogs. As I petted them we chatted about their being from out of town and where would the best trails be that would welcome their dogs, and within minutes I lost my sense of direction and the out-of-towners pointed me down the right street.

When I met Kathy in front of the restaurant, she presented me with a package that "was not present, because then you'll be mad that you didn't bring me one." There was a 45-minute wait at the restaurant, so we decided to find a coffee shop, which led us a few blocks in another direction. It took about 15 minutes to get our coffee, and on the way we both said we were glad we parked in a 3 hour zone, and she said, 'yes, it was worth the extra money, and I said, "What money? It thought it was free?"

So we decided to walk past my car on the way back to put my "not a present" there, and make sure I was in a free zone.

But as we walked we past a shoe store, an invisible vacuum force pulled Kathy inside. I should have been prepared for this. Fifteen minutes later, I had her by the elbow and was hustling her out and we continued to where I thought my car was, and I was completely lost. 

"I'm sure it was right here."

"They couldn't have towed you already."

"It was by the round-about . . . "

"Which is right there. . . "

"Not that one. . . "

At this point we split up in different directions and four blocks later, I realized I was on the wrong street, and eventually found my car. 

We met back at the restaurant where Kathy was having an altercation with a young man trying to cut in line. You don't do that to Kathy. She's from New York.

We order Bloody Mary's with our brunch -- non-alcoholic -- because I still needed to find my car when we were done. 

On our way out, we both turned to the left and she said, "You're not parked this way." I stuttered, "I'm just walking you to your car." She gave me "the look" and we air-kissed and went our separate ways.

On the way back to my car, I purposely took the long way so that I could gaze at a stone house with a turret, its neatly trimmed lawn enclosed with a wrought iron fence that is lined with pink honeysuckle and white lilac bushes. I had grown quite fond of during my travels this morning.

The good news is that I logged over 5,000 steps by the time we were done, so all was not lost.

The end.