I had lunch with Gail today. I worked with her briefly a couple of years ago. She’s got an in-your-face personality: commanding, direct, and bubbling over with quick, crass wit.

Loved her immediately.

Gail and I were destined to be separated at work. We’re loud people anyway, but especially so when we’re amused. So when we get good and tickled, it’s about the volume of an air raid klaxon in the sweet spot of an Athenian amphitheater.

We ate at Mikawa, which is the best sushi place for 50 miles or so. Mikawa came about because the upper management at the Toyota engine plant in town was dissatisfied with the area’s offerings, so they moved this chef and his family from Japan. It’s 100 yards off the road with negligible visibility, and you kind of have to know about it. Thankfully, enough seem to.

And thanks to Gail’s order, I discovered today that a lunch combo exists that substantially replicates what I usually order à la carte, at a cost of $9.50 instead of $20.25. Duhhhhhhh. I’d love to have that money back. It might be $100. Call it a stupid tax.

I dug the hell out of Gail from day one. I have a sort of visceral vibe for her that’s hard to describe. She gives me a buzz of the magnitude and nature that, when I feel it for a woman, I can usually identify a significant sexual component in; but that’s not the case with her. While she’s pretty, I’ve never wanted to get with her, but simultaneously I can’t deny the lift I get when I’ve spent some time with her.

Such is the case today. I’ve been bathing in her positive energy all afternoon and evening. She has lost 52 pounds, and she’s getting married in a month and a half. Yay!

My rational self knows that it’s a third-generation cephalosporin responsible for me feeling much better tonight. My spiritual self thinks it just might be recent proximity to Gail.