I went and paid the late fee for my storage space so they would take the padlock off the door. The manager said he was surprised I was late. "You're never late," he said. Wait till next year. I'll probably forget I even have a storage space. Later, when I was picking up my tax return from my accountant, he was telling me how one of his customers had forgotten to pay for their storage unit for several years in a row. "She has Alzheimer's," he told me. Jeez, maybe that's how it starts. First you forget about your storage unit, and then you forget the names of all your relatives.
When I left my accountant's office and was heading back to my car, this guy Steve I used to work with walks out of a nearby Thai restaurant and comes over to say hello. "What are you doing in there," I say, mostly because it wasn't anywhere near dinnertime. "I own the place," says Steve. Wow! That was a surprise. The last time I saw Steve, he was an art director. He's not from Thailand either. I think he was born and raised in Texas. Actually, I didn't even know Steve could cook, but if he was going to get out of advertising and open a restaurant, I would have guessed something in the barbecue family. Hey, maybe the place is fabulous. I love Thai food, so I told Steve I'd drop by for lunch sometime soon.
Dalmatian of the Day
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