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9 31 pm pdt [ his mom! ] Doyle invited me to some screening thing, and though I was sleepy, I agreed to attend; we always have an adventure together. "Can we go out to dinner?" I asked -- my life revolves around eating. I had asked a friend where the best Japanese restaurants were in Hollywood, so I already had a place in mind. We had no trouble locating Hirozen. Doyle had only had Japanese once before, so I was excited about introducing him to edamame and sake. Doyle didn't like the sake -- at all -- so it was my duty to finish the large bottle I had ordered. By the end of dinner I felt very warm and tingly, and thus very uncomfortable with the idea of driving myself home, so we agreed to hang at his place for a while. Neither of us were up for the screening after such a satiating meal. His ex-girlfriend (whom I either refer to as the bad Rachael or the Rachael who spells her name wrong) is our constant subject of discussion. When the phone rang, I grinned and asked if I could answer it. I was sure it was the Rachael who spells her name wrong. [Shouldn't I write that as the Rachel who spells her name wrong?] A female voice answered my hello with another hello. "Hello?" I repeated. "I think I may have the wrong number," she answered. "Are you calling for Doyle?" "Yes, you evil person." "This is Rachel." "This is Doyle's mother," she said succinctly. Oops! After they had chatted for a bit I signalled that I wanted the phone back. "Can I ask you a question," I said to her. She assented. "Why am I an evil person?" I asked. She said everyone my age is evil. She told me about her two evil cats. This woman is fantastic, and we could have spent ten hours chatting, but Doyle began getting nervous and signalling for the phone. I can't wait to meet her.
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August 1998 |