Just Between Us...

*I’ve been away from my blog because
of lower back trouble, LBT as I call it.
I remain locked--sure that the 'key' has been tossed!
I’m coming back, no matter what, writing my
once a week blog--though sitting in my computer
room chair is a back killer.
I look forward to the M-W-F physical therapy sessions,
which includes the highlight of my day-- electric
stimulation therapy, or TENS, as it's called.
***********

My brother, Michael is visiting me, so we’ve been
having lunch out most days.
We drove down to Olde Naples the other day
and went to Tommy Bahama’s Tropical Café for lunch.
We grabbed the last booth--a large booth across from the
Restrooms doorway.
Figures…

We considered alfresco dining under the thatched
umbrella tables but decided it was too hot for outdoor dining--
though a good place for people watching.

While Mike and I ate, I was watching the parade of
European tourists move through the doorway.
thinking I might spot just one person who might be dragging
just a hint of bathroom tissue along the path, usually firmly
affixed to the heel of a shoe. It’s a common occurrence, and takes
awhile for the person to notice.

Such an event happened to me while returning to my seat
on an airplane, which has been so long ago.
A young man got my attention by pointing behind me:
I’d dragged about 15 feet of tissue behind me, apparently
snagged on my clothing.
Talk about embarrassing moments, but all I could do was laugh…

I’ve been sort of eavesdropping on people’s conversations
during our lunches. It’s been easy since the talker seems
to be talking to everyone within 20 square feet of their own table.

One gal was saying that she was picked up for a date in
a convertible, and she closed her own door quite hard.
Her date said “My, you’re a big girl!”

She was peeved and stewed for several miles on their
way to a social event, her hairstyle slowly unraveling as
was her temper. Upon arrival, she spent several minutes
in the car attempting to smooth many of the stray blonde
strands of tousled hair.

Opening the car door herself, she slammed the door as hard
as she could. The lady’s girlfriends all roared at their
friends’ storytelling. I was nearly done with my
Panera sandwich, nibbling on a pickle and potato chip,
ears alert to further interesting tidbits, when the
ladies parted company and the conversations spilled
through the back doors.

Tomorrow we may be going to Turner River Road.
Not a conversation pit, but is guaranteed to have a squad of
sunning alligators, or is it a gaggle?
No, that’s geese…
If Michael edges up too closely, we may have something to
talk about after all!