Café Sonoita, Sonoita, ARIZONA
You remind me of an old friend of mine that almost drove me nuts because I believed we were in love, only she wasn’t. I was too stubborn so I just couldn’t believe she could like me so much and not just fall in love with me. Friends. She wanted to be friends. So I guess we were friends. Ten years ago. Truth is I was having a hard time loving anything especially me. So I guess it all makes sense in some twisted kind of way. You are the chef’s trainee in this really nice place surrounded by all these really nice work friends of yours whom are giving us all kinds of recommendations on places to see, places to be, or not. So we stay for coffee at the bar and talk about everything and nothing. I don’t really know how, but your colleague and me start talking about a writer she likes who’s a transvestite, and how we “feel” about that. I have no idea how gay I look or not because I just am. But I’m pretty certain she doesn’t know, so I find this conversation kind of amusing. Or maybe she does know and that’s why she asks me what I think… In this country and these different states, I don’t even know if someone who looks gay is living gay or married or single out of guilt. From one city to the next thoughts are worlds apart, and we never know where we’ll end up. Anyways, this conversation beats any guilt trip because even though opinions aren’t fully clear, at least we’re talking about “it”. You have short dark hair and you may be the same age my friend was ten years ago... So don’t go breaking too much hearts whomever you “are”.
‘the Café’, 3280 AZ Hwy 82, Sonoita, ARIZONA. (www.apethecafe.com). We wished we would have driven by at lunch time because the cooking smelled delicious. Wonderful vibes and wonderful people. FB: The Café/A.P.E.Dining
‘Gathering grounds’, Patagonia, ARIZONA. Filled with pink people and blue people and sport people and old people and us. Healthy good lunch!
‘Patagonia’, ARIZONA. We looked for the wine-yards. We never saw them. Where are they? Or maybe we’re out of season and the plants disappear and then re-appear. Or maybe we’re just “too French” and wine loving spoilt brats. In any case, we wanted to buy wine somewhere. We swear.