“What can I bring you to drink?” asked our waiter, Roberto.
“Coffee,” Jerry said without looking up from the menu.
As Roberto sped away, I said to Jerry, “You sound kind of grumpy.”
He said, “My back hurts. I didn’t mean to sound grumpy. I’ll feel better when I have coffee.”
We scooped the warm complimentary tortilla chips into the bean dip and munched as we waited. Roberto returned to our table empty-handed.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have regular coffee. We have decaf. Would you like decaf?”
Seated in the doctor’s lobby, I fill out the medical forms inquiring every aspect of my health history. That done, I flip through a magazine called Phoenix Home and Garden. I get lost in the pictures of gorgeous gardens with waterfalls and gurgling fountains and pergolas smothered in lush green vines. Finally, I’m called.
The doctor, a nice-looking young man who could easily moonlight as a fashion model for Esquire, glances over my forms.
“You have insomnia?”
“I had insomnia,” I say, “I’m not dealing with it now.” (Insomnia had nothing to do with the reason I was seeing the doctor. But he wanted to focus on it.)
This is how we cool off in Arizona.
I’m looking forward to Wednesday when the temperature plunges to the heavenly temperature of 111-degrees. According to our local news, Sunday’s 118 temperature is the fifth-hottest day recorded in Phoenix since the beginning of time.
With the threat of another scorching hot day predicted, Jerry and I wake as the Arizona sun makes its appearance for the proverbial crack of dawn. We hope to get some shopping done before high noon when the street’s asphalt bubbles and boils. Bubbling asphalt can be hard on the tires.
We endure the hard plastic chairs as we anticipate the opening of the 2016 Tucson Festival of Books. The sign in our author tent states: “Autographs available.” Both Julie and I have our pens ready for the signing spree we expect to happen the moment the book lovers flow through the gates. Julie and I display our books on stands along with a sign stating a raffle for a packaged set of our books.
Let the mad rush to our booth begin!
In my rush to pack for the two-day festival, I had forgotten to apply half of my make-up and hardly combed my hair. I also forgot the Panama hat I had purchased specifically for the event. When you forget to comb your hair, a Panama hat works wonders.
Ring in the new year and set new goals.
