Just this morning, this very morning, I decided I should stick my head into The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse and get things revved up. The last time I had been in, everyone was sort of depressed, dontcha know. I went in through the back door, and a distinct murmur from The Foo Bar caught my attention. I peeked in. Most of the stools were filled and behind the bar – behind the bar – sat Foo with a toothpick between her lips, a green eyeshade on her head and  cards in her hand.  I thought I heard someone say, “Hit me.”

Foo saw me first and inclined her head toward an empty stool; I headed right for the swinging half door to go behind the bar and she met me there. “No patrons behind the bar,” she says. “Foo,” I said, “this is me, AmeliaJake.” And I tapped my foot and gave her a look. She shrugged and told me I hadn’t been around for a while and she had an “easement”.

I lifted up her eyeshade, looked right in her eyes and told her she was playing 21 and running a gambling parlor and she told me I was right. So I plucked the toothpick right out of her mouth. It is hard for Foo to look put out

but she managed to alter this sweet face into a pout. “You left me playing sudoku; I had to move on.” I told her I had expected she would sort of stay the same, waiting for me as the dust gathered and she informed me that wasn’t how the real world worked.

“Well, I am back,” I said, “and we are stopping this nonsense right now. No more 21 and no more of that.” I pointed at the wall.

“My slot machines??? You want me to get rid of my slot machines????

Yes, yes and yes.

“And I suppose my merger with Donald the T is out, too?”

You got it, kid.

I sharpened her sudoku pencil and gave her a slug of sparkling grape juice and she looked up with her sweet face and asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve been in the cafe yet?”