January was fun. The Bubs. Natalie. Very closely followed by my partner in crime for nearly 30 years, Steven.
Steven, bka Mister Stevens, was only here overnight, but it was fabulous to see him nonetheless. Neither of us could recall the last time we'd seen each other. We won't go that long again. I'll be visiting him in NYC in a couple of weeks.
Since our time was limited, I mostly drove around and pointed out stuff, trying not to get us lost. Before his flight home, we went to what I understand is a Houston institution, The Avalon Diner ("Justly Famous Since 1938"). Just like the Singer store, the Avalon is deceptively tucked inside a strip mall. Its outside we know too well, but its inside is anachronistic. I wouldn't be surprised if the waitresses, who appear to be in their 50s and 60s, have been working there since they were teenagers. One of them is pictured, sitting down, propped by an elbow, world weary. (Which doesn't mean we didn't get great service.)
Mister Stevens and I followed the song in our approach to the meal. Really good, classic American diner food. I'm going to stay out late and get a hangover so I can eat there in the proper context.
Yeah, man. Mister Stevens is cool. He's got the forty-year-old's mark of cool, fresh ink.