So, it's Friday and I just got paid...I'm eatin' out for lunch. Earlier in the week, Lefty and I agreed to meet up for lunch. It took us a good fifteen minutes to decide where we would eat:

Me: What do you feel like?
Lefty: I don't care where do you want to go?
Me:I don't care, what are you in the mood for?
Lefty: Hmmm I don't really know, anywhere is fine, you decide.
Me: Well, what do you feel like?

Eventually one of us said "Mello Mushroom." Aaaah, yes.

So, I get to the 'shroom and I'm thinking Lefty must be waiting for me. As I was leaving the office, I got caught by a phone call and an office visit before I could make a break for the lunch line. I figured surely my delayed departure would mean Lefty would have to wait. No, not so, for the umpteenth time, I sit and wait for her. Lefty once more opted for the 20-minute interstate route when all she really needed to do was make a 3-minute drive up the road. Just once I would like to be the one "fashionably late."

And, she was "fashionably" late. I'm not sure about how things work at your office, but at my office, Friday is casual day. I pretty much dress for farm work, you never know when you'll have the urge to plow a field on a Friday. Lefty however dresses for the cat walk on Friday's. I have to say, as a woman, I never want to be the "under" dressed in a group. I don't mind being "equal" dressed or "over" dressed. But I don't like playing farmer brown to anyone's Cindy Crawford.

Lunch was tasty, but I couldn't help wondering if are co-patrons were questioning why the super model was sitting with the farm hand.