Nightie night...and day...

Today my sweetie got home from being away for two weeks. Since I was working today, and he was driving home near the lunch hour, he stopped by the office to take me to lunch.

We went to a nearby restaurant that we have only been to together once before. On our first visit, we were on our way into the building when an older woman called to us from a handicapped parking space near the door. She couldn't get her car started, and was hoping that Carey could help, which is usually a pretty good bet. As he got behind the wheel to try to figure out the problem, she stood beside me on the parking lot looking a little embarrassed and fretful.

I'm talking to her, trying to put her at ease, when all at once I realize that she is wearing a nightgown and bed jacket. I work in a small town, and it's not unusual for businesses to bring something out to the car of an older person. I do it myself in my job. If I know they're coming, I'll take papers out to their car for them to sign, so that they don't have to get out. So I assumed that's how she got into this little spot, and I felt bad for her. Nobody expects to go out to move the sprinkler in their underwear and get locked out of the house. Well, Carey does, but that's another post. (And it's not so fun for me anymore, now that we don't have neighbors.)

So when we pulled up to the restaurant today, we walked by this parking space, and remarked that our little friend wasn't here today. We were inside finishing our taco salad and glasses of cold iced tea, when in she walks, plain as a pikestaff. No bed jacket today...too hot. Just the nightie. She sits down at a table in the middle of the room and waits for service. Which is not long in coming.

So I guess I was wrong in my first assumption. I guess that the restaurant welcomes her inside as is. Come to think of it, I didn't see a, 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service" sign anywhere. Does a nightie count as a shirt? I guess it does as long as no one complains. I don't know about anyone else, but WE didn't. I don't mind the nightie...much.

I'm not quite sure why I'm writing about this. It bothers me that she was alone. Carey suggested that maybe she doesn't have the dexterity to dress. Hmmm, how's her driving, I wonder?

I've decided that if we run into her there again, I'll walk over and ask her to join us. I mean she kind of knows us...Carey did assist in trying to get her car started that time. And I would just like to get to know what her situation is a little. My new assumption (not an assumption, really, more of a hope) is that she's a Red Hat rebel...not one to conform to the rules of a club of self-proclaimed non-conformists. An individualist who goes big or goes home. Maybe she wears red panties! Now that's a club membership to aspire to.