First, while getting ready for my so called "DATE" this afternoon, I got an email from an old friend that said, "Wayne Kohl died a few months ago". I immediately called Chuck to verify that it was true. He said he wasn't sure, but that's what he'd heard. Wayne had a heart attack and died right on the spot he was told and was just passing along the sad news. Wayne was quite a character and lead an interesting life, although I kind of lost track of him in the early 90's. I did stop to see him once around 2006 and he had opened the pawn shop on bell Road at 26th street. I never had the occasion to see him after that. I googled his name and came up with a mortuary and learned that he died on his 68th birthday, October 9th. He will be sadly missed.
So I continued getting dressed for a meeting with a lady named Susan. Susan is 61 and a NYC transplant. She's only been here 4 years and lives in Troon, a pleasant area of North Scottsdale. She is semi retired from the interior design business and specialized in decorating large office type buildings. Susan wanted to meet at a place she referred to as the Pita Grill. I couldn't find it when I tried to locate it on the Internet. She said it was in Desert Ridge Shopping Center, but Google placed it at 20 street and Indian School. Susan called me as I was on my way, fighting rush hour traffic, on the 101. She yelled into the phone that it's called the Pita Jungle and of course that made more sense. When I arrived, right on time at 4:30, Susan was nowhere to be found, so I took a table at the front of the restaurant and noticed that the roar of the place was awful. Everyone that had just gotten off of work for the weekend was sitting there just screaming at the person next to them. There seems to be a constant ROAR!
I looked around the room and decided that the only person to possibly be Susan was an old woman sitting with who appeared to be her daughter and "IF" she was Susan, I was going to sneak out unnoticed. I did the cell phone trick. I secretly dialed her number and waited to see if the woman answered her phone. It rang, she didn't move......... whew!
Just then Susan walked up to the table and smiled and said hello. It's funny how you know instantly if a person will work for you or not and sadly, it was NOT! Susan was short, dumpy 5'2" and plump. Her face was showing the labors of her age and for whatever reason, she reminded me of possible a friend of my grandmother's
I tried to be pleasant and enjoy a couple of hours away from the house, but Susan spoke under the roar and mostly I just nodded as if I could actually hear her. I suggested we get out of there after an embarrassing appetizer of 2 small shrimp with a saucer called Shrimp Aho. Not even the jumbo ones! Just 2! I paid the check and she sat there as if a guest, no offer of half, not that I'd take it, but its nice for a lady to offer something. She was parked right by the front door and she offered to drive to another place that was quieter. I was willing to go home and call it a miss, but she seemed hopeful. Ah, what the hell, I got in. She drove a Toyota convertible, cute red car. Little did I know that I was taking my life into my hands.
While driving through Desert Ridge, she disclosed to me that she's only been driving 3 years and that being from NYC, there was no reason to drive a car. While we chatted, I noticed that she drove right through 2 different stop signs and never even attempted to slow down. After the second one, I mention that she's blown 2 stops signs and she slamed on the brakes, as if to make up for them. The car behind us skidded and voiced him complaints as he drove past us. He too had a New York accent! She reminded me of when I took my step daughter driving around a parking lot to learn how to handle the car. Only the kid had better control! That's when I yelled, I'm DONE! She was startled and looked at me. I said, look! The dates going fine, but rush hour traffic is not the place to practice driving. How about taking me back to my car and we'll do this another time (we won't). She said, "You sure"? I was SOOOO sure!
Somehow we made it back to my car, where she parked right in the middle of the shopping center and and no one could pass from either direction. I reached over and tried to give her a little kiss goodbye, but felt a soft moooshey set of lips and again my mind went reeling back to my Bubbe (grandmother) who could suck a golf ball through a straw with her powerful lips...
The date was over and I'm afraid, so is Susan...
So I continued getting dressed for a meeting with a lady named Susan. Susan is 61 and a NYC transplant. She's only been here 4 years and lives in Troon, a pleasant area of North Scottsdale. She is semi retired from the interior design business and specialized in decorating large office type buildings. Susan wanted to meet at a place she referred to as the Pita Grill. I couldn't find it when I tried to locate it on the Internet. She said it was in Desert Ridge Shopping Center, but Google placed it at 20 street and Indian School. Susan called me as I was on my way, fighting rush hour traffic, on the 101. She yelled into the phone that it's called the Pita Jungle and of course that made more sense. When I arrived, right on time at 4:30, Susan was nowhere to be found, so I took a table at the front of the restaurant and noticed that the roar of the place was awful. Everyone that had just gotten off of work for the weekend was sitting there just screaming at the person next to them. There seems to be a constant ROAR!
I looked around the room and decided that the only person to possibly be Susan was an old woman sitting with who appeared to be her daughter and "IF" she was Susan, I was going to sneak out unnoticed. I did the cell phone trick. I secretly dialed her number and waited to see if the woman answered her phone. It rang, she didn't move......... whew!
Just then Susan walked up to the table and smiled and said hello. It's funny how you know instantly if a person will work for you or not and sadly, it was NOT! Susan was short, dumpy 5'2" and plump. Her face was showing the labors of her age and for whatever reason, she reminded me of possible a friend of my grandmother's
I tried to be pleasant and enjoy a couple of hours away from the house, but Susan spoke under the roar and mostly I just nodded as if I could actually hear her. I suggested we get out of there after an embarrassing appetizer of 2 small shrimp with a saucer called Shrimp Aho. Not even the jumbo ones! Just 2! I paid the check and she sat there as if a guest, no offer of half, not that I'd take it, but its nice for a lady to offer something. She was parked right by the front door and she offered to drive to another place that was quieter. I was willing to go home and call it a miss, but she seemed hopeful. Ah, what the hell, I got in. She drove a Toyota convertible, cute red car. Little did I know that I was taking my life into my hands.
While driving through Desert Ridge, she disclosed to me that she's only been driving 3 years and that being from NYC, there was no reason to drive a car. While we chatted, I noticed that she drove right through 2 different stop signs and never even attempted to slow down. After the second one, I mention that she's blown 2 stops signs and she slamed on the brakes, as if to make up for them. The car behind us skidded and voiced him complaints as he drove past us. He too had a New York accent! She reminded me of when I took my step daughter driving around a parking lot to learn how to handle the car. Only the kid had better control! That's when I yelled, I'm DONE! She was startled and looked at me. I said, look! The dates going fine, but rush hour traffic is not the place to practice driving. How about taking me back to my car and we'll do this another time (we won't). She said, "You sure"? I was SOOOO sure!
Somehow we made it back to my car, where she parked right in the middle of the shopping center and and no one could pass from either direction. I reached over and tried to give her a little kiss goodbye, but felt a soft moooshey set of lips and again my mind went reeling back to my Bubbe (grandmother) who could suck a golf ball through a straw with her powerful lips...
The date was over and I'm afraid, so is Susan...
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