Today for lunch - which was much more crowded than usual - I had the Chicken Club on wheat with french fries.  But the food, and I don't say it lightly, pales in comparison to my favorite dining companion.  Henry Tits McGee, aka Kim, and I lunch and giggle more than two people should really be allowed to do when we can find the time.  She always has one pancake and a mushroom omelet.  If I have cornbread, she usually eats more than her fair share.  She always thinks she can out gun me in picking up the bill.  Today I won.

We've shared everything at our shared table.  And usually, if we were sharing a table, we made friends or over shared with them.  We really didn't care what they might overhear.  And we could just as easily interject into their conversation.  There's not really much we wouldn't share to make someone else enjoy their lunch all that much better.  I found out she was pregnant at one of our lunches.  I cried.  We've talked moms (before she was a mom), dads, family, loves, drinking, work, politics, construction, scatological humor, the love and loss of dogs, and, well, everything.  Fontaine calls her my girlfriend and rolls her eyes.  I think she might just be a little jealous.  Now, where else but a table at Charlie's can we find the time, space, and company - all company included - to find time for ourselves?