"He must be dressed for Halloween, but he’s got the wrong time of year. Do think I should kick him out? Oh! Look out here he comes."
Sure enough, the intruder walked to the bar, stood next to where Mick sat and waited. Mick gulped down more of his drink, took a last draw on his cigarette and then put it out in the ashtray.
Mick realized that he was in for trouble when he finally turned back around to face the man.
The guy looked like Ben Franklin!
We drove into Boulder, parked in front of the Boulder Theater and walked to Lucile's. This quaint house was buzzing with patron's and waitresses. The porch was occupied by a gay luncheon crowd. We were led to a table inside by the kitchen.
"Perfect," I told the hostess.
"It's my birthday," my wife announced to our waitress.
"Let's hope they don't check your ID, they would find that your B'day isn't until tomorrow."
Her plate with poached eggs, grits and cornbread arrived. It was a "Happy Birthday" plate. "This is perfect," she told me.
It was, thank God!