Rainbreaker:Rainmaker

I had a scrumptious lunch today. Shrimp and Scallop Pasta at the Charleston Crabhouse. It was very filling, so I stopped short and boxed a bit for dinner tomorrow. Then I had a piece of Key Lime Pie and a cup of coffee to complete my meal. Glancing to my right, I notice the oddest thing occurring just beyond the windows. I gravely took stock of my options, factoring in my girth and the proximity of the rental car and came to two obvious conclusions: NOT having a Gore-Tex jacket available seems to foster cloudbursts; and somebody was fixin' to get wet. That is correct. I left my jacket on the Southern Cross. It is stuffed into a little cubbyhole where I feel certain it is nicely dry. Would that I had been in the same condition when I reached the car. My predicament was compounded by my dissatisfaction with the heat inside the car earlier in the day. I tidily fixed that by leaving the windows open a bit. Not too much. Just enough to dampen the upholstery before I returned.

My priorities are intact, however. I begged a plastic bag before I left the restaurant. For the food? Heavens, no. I carried that. It was for the book I was reading at the time. I got it back to the hotel with nary a bit of the text smudged. This afternoon I finished that book, am about two-thirds of the way through another, and have no desire to eat anything until morning. And I'm still (but only just barely) within my per diem.

p.s. I was happy to be served Crab Puppies as an appetizer. They call them something else up north. Based on the name alone at home I've always wondered how they find them and how they expect to make a meal of them. The Southern nomenclature makes no more sense (although I didn't see any dogs in the area and that may or may not be cause for concern), but it does assuage my guilt for the anguish we may have caused all the little boy crabs out there.