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!