One lunch trip.

There is nothing like lunch with a friend to add fun to your life. 

And then there was this:

We are walking out of a little hometown pizza place that’s been in business since I was in high school. My friend carries, in her hands, a container with one piece of her pineapple and ham personal-sized pizza and a drink that contained no aspartame, since her daughter had told her to cut out the aspartame, and she’s already had one diet coke. My friend’s purse is on her shoulder. I'm shouldering my bag and carrying my drink. That’s where I went wrong. I had one empty hand.

“Oh!” she says.

I look at my friend. “What?”

“Do you have a free hand?”

“Yes,” I say before finding out why.

She stops walking. “Would you get that off me. My hands are full.” She nods at a grasshopper sitting near the edge of her three-quarter sleeved sweater (and what appears to be cashmere).

What if it jumps in my face? What if it crawls on my hand? I don’t like insects except butterflies. However, the grasshopper could spit on her sweater. 

I wave my hand over the insect in magic-trick style, but it doesn't disappear.

“Oh! It’s still there,” she says the obvious.

Not wanting to sacrifice our friendship over a little grasshopper spit, I nudged its side, and it flies away.

Friendship saved.

Then there was this on the way back to work. 

I pass a carwash. In one stall is a man hand washing his car, dressed in swimming trunks and a white business shirt. No tie.

I just kept on driving.