“Hello, how are you tonight?”
“Hot! It’s hot here– I looked it up, it said it would be cooler, but it is not cold. I am thinking about my luggage. Mistakes have been made.”
“Oh, that is too bad. It should cool down later this week.”
“I’m so glad to hear it–my favorite dress in the luggage is not made for a balmy 70 degrees with humidity.”
“It is nice to meet you. My name is Julian!”
“Hello, Julian. My name is Amy.”
“Where to, Miss Amy?”
“The Daytona Beach Hilton. And…” I don’t want to do this– I really don’t. But I didn’t eat in Atlanta during the layover and… “Julian–could you do me a big old favor?”
“Certainly?”
“I’m starving. Is there any way we could go through the drive thru of a McDonalds or something?”
“Absolutely. I think I know where one is.”
Well, he couldn’t find it–but we went to Wendy’s instead. They had a North Pacific Cod Sandwich that I WISH they had in California, which is significantly closer to the North Pacific. And now I am in my hotel room, in my jammies, happy as a clam at a bake.
By the way? Daytona Beach is even better than I remembered. But that could just be Julian– or the cod!
Yay Coastal Magic!
