"The time is late," I say to Garrett. "I need to work early."
Garrett replies, "I have an early photo shoot. So that makes both so us."
"We have time. Rocky Cola Cafe is opened until midnight," I comment.
"Ready to order?" The blonde-hair waitress asks, staring at us while she is standing at the edge of the table.
I look up at her direction. "Yes, I'm ready."
Garrett answers, "Me too."
"Go ahead. Who is first to order?"
I glance at Garrett. He smiles. "Ladies, first."
"Forgot what I had ordered." I silently think, reading the menu. I wasn't a disciplined eater back then in April 2,1992. In fact, I wasn't a vegetarian.
"Miss?"
I look up at the blonde-hair waitress, seeing her Californian face. It's fair and above average. Young and not old. Blue eyes.
"Maybe my friend Garrett should go first." I stare at him. "I might take awhile."
The blond-hair waitress looks at Garrett. "You ready, sir?"
"Are you sure?" Garrett eyes me.
"Yeah...I think. Sort of." I sound hesitant. "I'm trying to remember what I had eaten during the time of my baptism."
Garrett interrupts, saying, "How long ago did you get baptized?"
The blonde-hair waitress stares at us. She clears her throat. "Need more time?"
I look at the menu. Unsure what to do. "Garrett?"
Garrett looks at me. "Up to you."
"Alright," I say. "I'll order a breakfast item."
"Breakfast at ten?" Garrett asks.
I reply, "Of course. My favorite. Before my baptism, I used to eat at Denny's all the time. The restaurant along El Segundo Boulevard. Near the 405. I enjoyed eating the nachos."
"So what are you ordering?" the blonde-hair waitress asks me as she stands at the edge of the table.
After staring at the breakfast items, I answer, "The egg white veggie omelette."
The blonde-hair waitress writes my order on the pad. She looks up, staring at me. "Any drink?"
I gaze at the menu. "Glass of orange juice."
At this minute I begin to think that I don't know what Garrett will say or do. In the past, my relationship with the church brothers who belonged to the "LA Church of Christ" were not interested in me as a potential girlfriend. Jim, only. I'd wondered why. I quickly begin to start a conversation before Garrett can have a chance to talk. Order.
"My baptism night," I began saying, staring at Garrett.
The blonde-hair waitress interrupts. "Are you ready to order, sir?" she asks.
Garrett replies, "The breakfast burrito."
"Buffalo steak or chicken?"
"The steak."
"Any drink?"
"Coke."
The blonde-hair waitress writes Garrett's food and beverage order on the pad. She smiles. "I'll be right back with two glasses of water."
I smile. "My baptism night. Want to hear it? What happened? How it was like?"
"How it went?" Garrett asks.
"Yeah."
"Sure."
"Okay."
I explain that the night of my baptism was on April 2, 1992, Thursday. I remember it was right after a Bible Talk discussion at Doug and Angela Wens' apartment somewhere in Hermosa Beach. I drove Melinda, my discipler, to Manhattan Beach. After I parked the Toyota Corolla at a parking stall inside a building structure or at a meter parking stall close to the beach, I grabbed my Bible and a towel then got out of the car.
At the beach, on the sand, I read a scripture that I had picked, chosen as a special verse in the Bible that I would remember, reminding me of my baptism. My dark brown eyes had been focused on the flashlight's beam that reflected the printed text. The sound of my voice echoed in the cool April night air as I read the New International Version's scripture of 2 Corinthians 4:16-18---Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that for outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal---and sang, standing closely, side-by-side, near one another, two songs. "Sanctuary" and "Jesus Will Fix It."
The blonde-hair waitress arrives at the table. She is holding a tray that contain the food plates and beverage cups.
Garrett and I had already received the glasses of water while I was talking about the night of my baptism. As we are eating our food, I revealed to Garrett about a "close call." It was on a Friday, June 13, 2008. The time was 11:20 a.m. My emachines laptop was up and running on the electrical cord and not on battery power. I had just thrown away the ripe peel after Grandma ate a banana. Midnight, my black kitten, was in the bedroom; Mika, my yellow lovebird, was in his cage. I'm eating a piece of orange that is mixed in with several different fruits in a bowl. The television was on the History channel 72, a program of Dogfights: Kamikazes.
I swallow the chewed veggie omelette in my mouth and grab the orange juice, taking a sip. I lay the glass on the table and watch Garrett eat his breakfast burrito. He looks at me while eating his food and then smiles. Garrett sees me smile at him too. He listens as I speak: "I recently discovered that a person I had known to be a member of a church organization in Southern California thought of murdering me in order for him to receive money. Killing me or having me accidentally killed because I looked like or reminded him of someone in a past history. This church brother knew his movies and was considered to be a "history buff." Approximately three days ago from today I found out that the individual who I looked like had been the Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short or Betty Short. She was a 1947 Los Angeles murder victim who was tortured before being cut in half. All of her body fluids had been cleanly washed. Someone who was in a medical profession could had done this type of procedure such as a doctor."
"That is hard to believe," Garrett says. "Are you sure? Who could have thought of something sinister as that? Did that church guy tell you? How did you find out?"
I stare at Garrett. "My own premonition."
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"Not a problem."
"Anything else I should know?"
"No."
"Want dessert?"
"Think I'll pass."
"Ready to leave?"
"When we receive the bill."
"Alright."
Smiling at Garrett, I say, "Thanks for coming to the Rocky Cola Cafe with me." And add, changing my mind, "Maybe we should order dessert to go."
He looks at me strangely. "Thought you'd pass."
"The desserts are non-fat and low-fat."
Garrett stares at the fitness menu. "Homemade cheesecake and frozen vanilla yogurt," he says. "Are you still hungry?"
I laugh. "No, of course not. I'm just playing, that's all."
"Good."
The blonde-hair waitress arrives at the table. "Care to order any desserts or are you both done for tonight?"
"I'm done," I reply, staring at her. "Ready for the bill."
"And you, sir?" The blonde-haired waitress asks Garrett.
He looks at me. "We're both done."
I smile, thinking, "Garrett is my best friend."
"Maybe my friend Garrett should go first." I stare at him. "I might take awhile."
The blond-hair waitress looks at Garrett. "You ready, sir?"
"Are you sure?" Garrett eyes me.
"Yeah...I think. Sort of." I sound hesitant. "I'm trying to remember what I had eaten during the time of my baptism."
Garrett interrupts, saying, "How long ago did you get baptized?"
The blonde-hair waitress stares at us. She clears her throat. "Need more time?"
I look at the menu. Unsure what to do. "Garrett?"
Garrett looks at me. "Up to you."
"Alright," I say. "I'll order a breakfast item."
"Breakfast at ten?" Garrett asks.
I reply, "Of course. My favorite. Before my baptism, I used to eat at Denny's all the time. The restaurant along El Segundo Boulevard. Near the 405. I enjoyed eating the nachos."
"So what are you ordering?" the blonde-hair waitress asks me as she stands at the edge of the table.
After staring at the breakfast items, I answer, "The egg white veggie omelette."
The blonde-hair waitress writes my order on the pad. She looks up, staring at me. "Any drink?"
I gaze at the menu. "Glass of orange juice."
At this minute I begin to think that I don't know what Garrett will say or do. In the past, my relationship with the church brothers who belonged to the "LA Church of Christ" were not interested in me as a potential girlfriend. Jim, only. I'd wondered why. I quickly begin to start a conversation before Garrett can have a chance to talk. Order.
"My baptism night," I began saying, staring at Garrett.
The blonde-hair waitress interrupts. "Are you ready to order, sir?" she asks.
Garrett replies, "The breakfast burrito."
"Buffalo steak or chicken?"
"The steak."
"Any drink?"
"Coke."
The blonde-hair waitress writes Garrett's food and beverage order on the pad. She smiles. "I'll be right back with two glasses of water."
I smile. "My baptism night. Want to hear it? What happened? How it was like?"
"How it went?" Garrett asks.
"Yeah."
"Sure."
"Okay."
I explain that the night of my baptism was on April 2, 1992, Thursday. I remember it was right after a Bible Talk discussion at Doug and Angela Wens' apartment somewhere in Hermosa Beach. I drove Melinda, my discipler, to Manhattan Beach. After I parked the Toyota Corolla at a parking stall inside a building structure or at a meter parking stall close to the beach, I grabbed my Bible and a towel then got out of the car.
At the beach, on the sand, I read a scripture that I had picked, chosen as a special verse in the Bible that I would remember, reminding me of my baptism. My dark brown eyes had been focused on the flashlight's beam that reflected the printed text. The sound of my voice echoed in the cool April night air as I read the New International Version's scripture of 2 Corinthians 4:16-18---Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that for outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal---and sang, standing closely, side-by-side, near one another, two songs. "Sanctuary" and "Jesus Will Fix It."
The blonde-hair waitress arrives at the table. She is holding a tray that contain the food plates and beverage cups.
Garrett and I had already received the glasses of water while I was talking about the night of my baptism. As we are eating our food, I revealed to Garrett about a "close call." It was on a Friday, June 13, 2008. The time was 11:20 a.m. My emachines laptop was up and running on the electrical cord and not on battery power. I had just thrown away the ripe peel after Grandma ate a banana. Midnight, my black kitten, was in the bedroom; Mika, my yellow lovebird, was in his cage. I'm eating a piece of orange that is mixed in with several different fruits in a bowl. The television was on the History channel 72, a program of Dogfights: Kamikazes.
I swallow the chewed veggie omelette in my mouth and grab the orange juice, taking a sip. I lay the glass on the table and watch Garrett eat his breakfast burrito. He looks at me while eating his food and then smiles. Garrett sees me smile at him too. He listens as I speak: "I recently discovered that a person I had known to be a member of a church organization in Southern California thought of murdering me in order for him to receive money. Killing me or having me accidentally killed because I looked like or reminded him of someone in a past history. This church brother knew his movies and was considered to be a "history buff." Approximately three days ago from today I found out that the individual who I looked like had been the Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short or Betty Short. She was a 1947 Los Angeles murder victim who was tortured before being cut in half. All of her body fluids had been cleanly washed. Someone who was in a medical profession could had done this type of procedure such as a doctor."
"That is hard to believe," Garrett says. "Are you sure? Who could have thought of something sinister as that? Did that church guy tell you? How did you find out?"
I stare at Garrett. "My own premonition."
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"Not a problem."
"Anything else I should know?"
"No."
"Want dessert?"
"Think I'll pass."
"Ready to leave?"
"When we receive the bill."
"Alright."
Smiling at Garrett, I say, "Thanks for coming to the Rocky Cola Cafe with me." And add, changing my mind, "Maybe we should order dessert to go."
He looks at me strangely. "Thought you'd pass."
"The desserts are non-fat and low-fat."
Garrett stares at the fitness menu. "Homemade cheesecake and frozen vanilla yogurt," he says. "Are you still hungry?"
I laugh. "No, of course not. I'm just playing, that's all."
"Good."
The blonde-hair waitress arrives at the table. "Care to order any desserts or are you both done for tonight?"
"I'm done," I reply, staring at her. "Ready for the bill."
"And you, sir?" The blonde-haired waitress asks Garrett.
He looks at me. "We're both done."
I smile, thinking, "Garrett is my best friend."
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