Hook a Brother Up

I am in need of a Karen fix. Are you free for lunch today? I promise I will be on time today.

Another friend had once likened time with me to a drug, so I knew what he was talking about. And he knew lunch was an offer I wouldn't refuse.

When I got to Chez Foushee, I inquired if there was a man waiting for a woman, but no, so they gave me the table in the front window so we couldn't miss each other.

I had a great view of the corner of Grace and Foushee with a parade of characters walking by, like the girl in colorful leggings printed with comics, although I'm not sure I'd want a big, red "POW!" on one butt cheek.

Then there was the guy walking by with a clergy member (judging by his white collar) who blew me a kiss while they were waiting for the light to change.

I eavesdropped on the trio two tables away, discovering that one was a artist and the other his dealer, with his trendy-looking wife who didn't say a word the whole time next to him.

After about 40 minutes, I heard my name called, but not from the doorway; my friend was standing in the middle of the restaurant.

Seems he'd arrived five minutes before I had and been seated in the back and patiently awaiting my arrival ever since.

Okay, not so patiently because he'd e-mailed me five times wondering where I was.

You should have seen the face of the guy who'd seated me when he spotted my friend. Oops.

Bu better late than never and when I got to his table, I saw he already had wine chilling although given the wait time, a fair amount of it was already history.

Pimento cheese and crackers soon arrived and he started telling me about everything going on his life, the purpose of our get-together.

When some people need a Karen fix, what they mean is they need a listener willing to tell them what they should do.

Can do.

I ordered the brussels sprout salad, my perennial favorite at Foushee for the bacon, bleu cheese and red onions that make it one of the tastiest ways I've ever found to eat seared sprouts.

We talked about how things are going with his love life and he showed me a text he'd gotten this morning, a romantic and suggestive missive to start his day.

Obviously I can't get texts, but I sure wouldn't mind a bawdy e-mail to start my day on occasion.

More than one server came over periodically throughout our meal to apologize for not getting us together sooner, but by then that was water under the bridge and what were we going to do, flog them for their mistake?

No, far better to indulge ourselves so we chose chilled double chocolate mousse torte with warm pecan-studded praline sauce, an obscenely rich desert that no one person really ever needs to eat alone.

It took a long time to eat because it was so heavy and we continued to gab as the restaurant began to empty out.

We may not have started on time (again!) but as he pointed out, that just gave him more time to get his fix.

A lovely lunch aside, gotta love a Karen junkie.