Richard took me out to lunch at Wendy’s yesterday. As we were enjoying our meal (we both got Dave’s Big Bacon Classic, which is easily the finest fast-food burger on the market today) I reached down to my hip to check the time.
“Do you know what time it is?” I asked.
“Why do you care?” he shot back with a grin.
“You have a 1:30 meeting, right?”
“Yup. I’ll worry about getting me there on time.”
I sighed during the pregnant pause, and realized that not only do I not need a cell-phone, I don’t really even need a WATCH.
“It’s 12:05,” he said after chewing and swallowing.
“Oh, good. Plenty of time, then.”