Black Shadowess

This is what my life has come to. Sitting at my computer just before midnight last night, the phone rang. Anyone who knows me knows I hate the phone, so I don't get many calls during daylight hours, much less after dark.

Me: Hello?
Him: What are you doing home so early?
Me: Well, I went to the Silent Music Revival and out for a drink but now I'm home. Is that okay?
Him: Yea, I knew if you were home you'd be up. Wanna have lunch tomorrow?
Me: Uh, sure.
Him: Pick you up at noon.
Me: Okay, bye.

Of course, he could have just e-mailed me, but he planned to sleep until 11:30 this morning and wanted to know before he went to bed if we had plans. Welcome to my world.

We ate at 3325 West Cafe on the portico of the church building that used to house Acacia. As he pointed out, it's our second lunch of late looking down on the street theater of Carytown, always ripe for commentary from the peanut gallery (and we so enjoy being peanuts).

He needed coffee STAT and a Margarita pizza; I got the Bleu salad (Romaine lettuce, bleu cheese crumbles, toasted pine nuts, red onions, banana peppers, tomatoes, cukes and croutons with a vinaigrette), knowing he'd share his pizza, which he did.

My salad was perfect for me, mainly because I'd prefer a bleu cheese vinaigrette over a creamy bleu cheese dressing anytime. His pizza had the thinnest crust, almost cracker-like, and weighty with cheese, although basil was a tad short in supply. He ate four pieces, paused and got a second wind and finished off the rest. There went any hope of dessert, something he's usually good for.

Driving home, we were behind a 70s-era black van, pimped out nicely...if it were still 1977. On the spare tire cover, the owner had taken the kind of gold lettering you buy in a hardware store and written a message to the world: BLACK SHADOW - COME AND GET SOME.

"Yea, baby, cause that's the way to pull in the ladies," my friend said.

Suppose it would work on the back of a black Altima? Nah, probably not.