Joe was supposed to call me at 7:30, but I was already awake, and called him at 7:32. He was just about to call me.
We checked out at 8:30, and headed up to Boca to visit Jeane, Phyl, and Jimmy. The traffic wasn’t too bad, as we got to ride in the HOV lane.
I was a little disappointed that Phyl and Jimmy’s pool was drained, as it’s just so stunning seeing it full when you walk into the entrance to their home. As it turned out, it was not only drained, but it was a new pool being put in. Jimmy told us about the plans, and it’s going to be more beautiful than ever when it’s done.
Jimmy cooked a great breakfast — some killer biscuits, scrambled eggs, bacon, cantaloupe, orange juice, and coffee. We scarfed it down.
Jeanie looked great, and sounded great, and we both caught up and reminisced. Although, it was a short visit, it was so nice, and I was glad that it worked out.
I’m always afraid, when I say goodbye to her that it’s going to be the last time I get the opportunity to do so. I gave her a big hug, and walked with Phyllis and tears in my eyes to the foyer. On the way out of the kitchen Phyllis whispered to me, “She loves and misses you so much.”
“Want to see my latest little gift?” Phyllis asked when we got to the foyer.
She showed me her new Toyota Solara Convertible, which I really liked.
Hers wasn’t red; blue, I believe it was, with a tan interior.
We went back in the house, and I shook Jimmy’s hand, and thanked him for breakfast. Then, “I’m going to run and get one more hug.”
I went back into the kitchen and gave Jeanie-baby another tight, tight hug goodbye, and then waved my hand in the foyer while passing Jimmy and Phyl and getting out of there before the water in my eyes fell down my cheeks again.
We made it to the airport without incident, returned the car, and got all checked in, ending up with “B” line tickets. Noting that we had a layover in Tampa, without de-planing, and wouldn’t be arriving in Raleigh until 4:00, we each bought a personal pizza to have for the Tampa – RDU leg of the flight.
We got in the B line when it started forming, and were entertained by a dork at the very front of the A line, who had one of those cell phone ear pieces on, and was having a conversation talking into the air. He talked loud, and kept turning in circles so everyone in the line could not how impotent [sic] he was. And at one point, “Oh, I’ve got to cut this short, I’ve got another call coming in.” BFD.
A lady parked herself in front of the “Pre-boarding Passengers” line, who had nothing visibly wrong with her. She was sucking on something that looked like the end of a tampon, but of course wasn’t. After trying to figure it out, Joe decided it was some kind of medication dispenser.
“I know just the type,” Joe said. “We see these in the hospital all the time. ‘I can’t take medications, they hurt my throat. Oh, no, I can’t do the chewable ones, they get all stuck in my teeth. Blah, blah, blah.’ She’s so that type,” he said.
At about 15 minutes before boarding time, she took out a portable DVD player, with the smallest screen ever, and started watching a movie. Does this seem like a good idea to anyone?
On the Ft. Lauderdale to Tampa leg, this black girl sat next to me, who was studying for The Bar (law), as was another guy about four rows up. How did we know that? Because he was turned around talking at the top of his lungs to the guy sitting in the row behind him, evidently making sure the entire plane knew what he was doing.
The flight attendant came to our row, and asked what we wanted to drink. The girl next to me asked what the choices were. She rattled them off so fast, that I didn’t understand her either. The girl asked her to repeat them, and the flight attendant rolled her eyes before saying the list again.
“What a bitch,” I said as she walked away. I said it toward Joe, but the girl next to me heard me, and started laughing.
We stayed on the plane in Tampa while about half of the people on the plane got off. We ate our pizzas while they deplaned and the crew came through, all with white gloves on, emptying trash from seat backs, and wiping down the seats where necessary.
Once all were deplaned, those of us left were free to move to other seats. Joe and I stayed put.
It looked like we were going to possibly not have a third person join our row, but at the last minute this very well-dressed, very well-coiffed, and makeup-laden woman in blue pin-stripe pants and a bright red blouse took the seat next to me. Immediately, the wave hit me. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?
What are these damn people thinking going into a confined area with limited personal space and pressurized air — smellin’ like sumpin’s butt? I turned my air nozzle on high, and aimed it toward her to blow that stank away.
Right after we landed, my phone rang, and my dear Robert was volunteering to pick me up, and take me to Toyota of Durham to get my car. I took him up on the offer, so that Joe could go directly home.
We stopped by Durham Tech, where he dropped off his final paper, and then got to Toyota of Durham, where my bill came to $91 instead of the $159 I expected. Yippee.
I think it may have been Mark Jacobson himself, who helped me, and showed me the “car finder” on my key chain, which really was the panic button.
Back home, I checked my mail, did a load of laundry from the weekend’s wears, and then took an hour nap.
I met Joe at Helios at about 9:15. When we walked in, Bob S., Steve J., and Richard D. were at a table by the door. We said hello, and after we’d sat down for a few minutes, Richard came over to ask me what that article was about in the paper that I had written to the editor about.
We got to Flex at about 10:10, and after our first drink, got a pool table. Joe (from the ride) joined us in three games of cut-throat, which was a lot of fun.
After that Tula Boxx joined our little group, and told us stories about his family — including about his father, who had an 11-inch dick, and married 5 women 7 times. (Two of them twice.)
He also told us about his grandmother, who was a big proponent of not circumsizing her children, and how she called them all into a room one time, him and his cousins, to show them what a non-mutilated dick looked like.
She said, “I don’t buy that crap about non-circumsized penises being a health risk. I taught all my boys to skin it back and clean it.”
He also told a somewhat long story about, I believe it was that same grandmother, having a baby in a watermelon patch, or after eating a yellow watermelon. Something like that.
We left there shortly after that.