Last night I suggested bypassing grilling, which had been a steady habit for the week, and get some chinoise up at the classy, real cloth table cloth/no-fake-polynesian-asian-kitsch-bullshit place up the street.

Sitting there, chomping on some duck fried rice, I look up and think about another table “Hey, that woman looks like Mary,” although my brain knows Mary moved to California. I squint and think, “Wait, that’s a baby carrier on one side, and that guy next to her looks just like her husband.”

In fact, it was them with their new 3-month baby and Mary’s bestest friend and former neighbor, who still lives down the street. YAY!

She’s one of the people on the planet, I’m just happy to know. I’m a terrible and lazy friend, but every now and again the planet’s rotation tosses us back into the same place, and we get to catch up more directly than the phone allows.

Cool woman. Pat liked her a lot, too.