Are We Still Friends

Today I had lunch with a friend at a trendy Mexican restaurant with a patio in the Plaza.  I was sitting on the patio, thinking how pleasant fountains are, especially on sunny days, when I was accosted by a spurious young waiter.  I can't imagine he was for real - he can't have been serious.  I think he actually skipped up to the table.

I ordered some extra-hot salsa.  Tra la!  He skipped away.

My lunch date arrived, and we ordered lunch.  After the food arrived, he stopped by the table, leaned down and placed one hand by my napkin. 

"Are we still friends?" he asked.

I turned back to the conversation at hand, his comment unregistered for a moment, floating in the temp file of my brain.  Then it slid into place. Did he really ask if we were still friends?  Were we friends in the first place?  Would we not have been friends if my salsa were not hot enough?  Or would I slam my hand on the table, bellow "absolutely not!" and flee the patio, crying that my life had ended along with our newfound friendship?

His behavior began to make more sense when he returned with the bill, which my friend had paid.  He asked if she worked for the Star.  She said yes, then he quickly mentioned his skills as a photographer.  It starts to make more sense, yes?  Since we're all friends here.

Speaking of photography, allow me to brag on the little angel for just one moment.  Our baby photographer has chosen Somebody Little to be on the new baby photo brochure.  The little angel's first modeling assignment!  Post-photo, sure, but what's next?  Special applesauce in the dressing room?   A bowl filled with just red and green Goldfish? I certainly hope it does not go to her extremely cute head.  Of course, we don't have to tell her. She never opens her mail.