August 17th, 2005

My brother Jeff accompanies me as I run some errands in town. We stop for lunch at an ethnic-themed restaurant. I could not discern what nationality of food the restaurant was trying to serve. We order lunch. We eat the lunch. We are amazed by how good the lunch is. I walk to the counter to tell the owner how good the food was. He is an Indian male in his late thirties, early fourties.
"Thank you," he says. "You make drawings right?"
"Yes."
"Is it easy to draw a foot?"
I am about to answer but he turns around and leaves.
"That's cool if he doe not want to know or show respect for Brighid," I think. "She'll deal with him."
Jeff and I leave to finish our errands. My car is covered in snow. Damn, I don't have a snow brush in my car to clear the snow. I put the window down and up many times to shake the snow loose from the window. It finally works. I leave the restaurant's parking lot and drive down the road.
"Oh man," I think. "I am driving the wrong way. I can not get where I want to go by taking the route I am now."
I think a minute then realize I can reach my destination still but I have to go a different way.
Jeff turns to me and says," Reba's ratings are slipping so they are planning one of those special event episodes."