People Watching at the Riverhead Grill again.

I'm having breakfast at the Riverhead Grill again. Ham steak and eggs (scrambled) and "Apache" and "Runaround Sue" on the radio. And who walks in and sits down next to me other than Mr Loquacious and his girl. ( And yes, I understand the irony of me accusing anyone of talking too much). They must be regulars. And if they weren't an item then, they are now. He chased her, but she caught him. As it should be. They order breakfast, and he launches into another self-absorbed soliloquy. On and on and on. She listens, with genuine interest, but only to a point; she then slowly raises her finger to his lips, gently brushing across them and stopping dead center; a finger in the dyke of his brain, stopping the 5 knot flow of words. She whispers something that I can't hear, but if I have learned anything from my time on ths planet, I could probably repeat what what she says verbatim. I seem to be correct; still silent (and slightly flustered), he pays the bill in a confused manner, leaves way too big of a tip, and leaves in a hurry. She follows confidently, with a walk that is almost a stroll. I am reminded of Donna Reed walking home with Jimmy Stewart, with a broken window in their wake.

The food is hardly touched.

I think I have just had a masterclass in the way power and the world really works.

I'm rooting for him. I'm rooting for them.
Sometimes, I guess, we can't screw it up, no matter how hard we try.

Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight?

This gives me hope. Spero meliora.

Sent from my HTC GOGETEMTIGER™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that falls into swimming pools and lassos the moon