|
|
|
|
|
Contents:
I'd never experienced heat like the Californian heat. I stepped out of my Alaskan Airlines flight from Seattle to find it was warm, very warm. Clinch was there to meet me at John Wayne Airport. It had been a while. I smiled and said "hello". He asked me why I was wearing my sunglasses indoors.
The first evening we dined at Steve's Steak Shack. The waiter gave us the wrong steaks. There were some bridge players at the next table. We didn't say "hello". Nor did they.
Before the bridge the following morning we drove out to Long Beach. There was a heavy fog so we couldn't see the sea, but we rolled down the windows and played surfing music on the car stereo, singing along. The CD changed to Harry Belafonte, so we sang along to that, as well.
That evening we found a nice little Italian restaurant in a mini-mall, sandwiched between a dry cleaners and a skin care clinic. We asked the waitress what she'd recommend. She said "everything", so we had veal. There were some other people from the bridge at the next table. We didn't say "hello". Nor did they.
To see us through the bridge I bought a bottle of wine at Starbuck's. The girl behind the counter kindly produced a corkscrew, but was unable to open the bottle herself, as she was underage. She looked the other way, and I stealthily opened the bottle myself.
On the Sunday we skipped lunch, but I went for a stroll (not easy in Anaheim) and found a liquor store. The nice lady not only sold me some beer and wine but also a corkscrew for ninety nine cents. "I always" she said "Carry one of these with me." Needless to say, when I tried to use it later on it came apart in my hands. Back to Starbucks.
Monday and it was time for me to go. Clinch drove me to John Wayne Airport. Well, more accurately, he drove me back to Long Beach, but half way there I realised we were going in the wrong direction so I made my flight with minutes to spare. He bade me farewell, and as I approached the check-in desk he told me that it was okay to take my sunglasses off, now. Once aboard the plane, bound for Seattle, I did.
I'd never experienced heat like the Californian heat - well, not since I left my house in Phoenix. I drove from the hotel to meet Payn's Alaskan Airlines flight from Seattle. I missed my turning and reached the flight with seconds to spare. Saw Payn. He grimaced and said "hello". Oddly he was wearing sunglasses indoors. I said nothing.
The first evening we dined at The Covered Wagon Steak House. We sat in Wagon One.The waiter gave us the wrong steaks. He claimed they were right. Payn's rib eye had no eye. Mine had a big one, like Cyclops. We each had a side of beans.
There were some bridge players at the next table. We didn't say "hello". Nor did they.
Before the bridge the following morning we drove out to Long Beach. We breakfasted in Denny's, but were held up by a group of schoolgirls in gymslips. There was a heavy fog so we couldn't see the sea, but we rolled down the windows and played surfing music on the car stereo, singing along. The CD changed to Harry Belafonte, so we sang along to that, as well.
That evening we found a nice little Italian restaurant in a mini-mall, sandwiched between a dry cleaners and a skin care clinic. We asked the waitress what she'd recommend. She said "everything", so we had veal. There were some other people from the bridge at the next table. We didn't say "hello". Nor did they. We drove back to the hotel, and sang along to Harry Belafonte, since he was still on the player.
To see us through the bridge Payn bought a bottle of wine at Starbuck's. I brought another from my room. The nice man behind the bar opened it for me. I gave him a five dollar tip for no reason at all. We offered a glass to a pleasant gentleman from the ACBL. He, and several others, seemed to think drinking wine was funny.
On the Sunday we skipped lunch, but Payn went for a stroll (not easy in Anaheim) and found a liquor store. The nice lady not only sold him some beer and wine but also a corkscrew for ninety nine cents. "I always" she said "Carry one of these with me." Needless to say, when he tried to use it later on it came apart in his hands. Back to Starbucks.
Monday and it was time for Payn to go. I drove him to John Wayne Airport. I got lost, so was only just in time to watch him down two filled croissants and don his sunglasses.
I stayed to watch the Spingold. I caught a cold from Fred Gitelman, who kindly recommended an enjoyable lozenge.
A week later, I drove to John Wayne Airport. I arrived in good time. Bought an Egg McMuffin, and waved to Barnet Shenkin while eating it. Momentarily, I was reminded of something Jim Proctor once said. As I boarded the plane my hand brushed automatically against my top pocket, feeling for my sunglasses.
Editor's note:
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
| Last article |
Bridge menu |
Main index |
Top of article |
Local menu |