The last legs in my car or it’s an overhaul this weekend. If not, I may be walking. I'm considering buying a pickup, which is freedom in this town. [There is a note here that after three years in Miami, my West Coast people are getting slow to respond to inquiries and regular business. Can't blame them.]
The crew went for another birthday brunch at Original House of Pancakes. Cathy is the interesting one in that she is next in line to experience the new database in its glory. As Rhonda said, “If somebody doesn't do something, you're going to sort this all out.”
On the ride back to the office, Staci mentions Jamie. They concluded there must be “cold winter nights when Jamie wonders about naked and I get lonely”, and so on. This apparently represents the limits of their reasoning. They could never comprehend that I have nothing to do with Jamie, because she's not my type.
It does, however, clearly indicate the type of semi-desperate men they hang around with. Later, I reminded Staci not to mention such things in public. Stacy seemed interesting when we met in December 2001, but it wore off. She's a truly uncomplicated simple person. Also broke.
[Author's note: this reference is to my infrastructure in people out in the Seattle area. My will, investments, bank accounts, retirement funds, and long-term friends are all still there.
Present at the birthday party where Ernie, Alida, Julie, Kathy, and Staci. The restaurant is around 36th Northwest and 87th in Doral, Florida. The service is really slow, and even slower if you happen to be, like myself, the only one in the gang who doesn't drink. It took forever to get a coffee.
In typical Florida fashion, I finally had to mention it to the manager, who is standing right beside the coffee machine. Instead of just handing me a coffee, he calls over the waitress and gets on her case.]
