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THE MIDNIGHT SKULKER 16

San Diego, California

February 28, 1974

7:50 p.m.  Pacific Standard Time

Taking an immediate liking to the younger man’s appearance and mannerisms, thinking that, possibly, he might be willing to make the investment needed to transform Mitchell into a Mercedes Benz salesman, “What do you do, Mitchell?”

“As a matter of fact, Mr. Sawyer, I’m in an allied field.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve purchased the rights to Southern California from a company called ‘Your Write Hand’,” Spelling: “ ‘W-R-I-T-E’.  And we’re giving competition to whoever you use for your automotive, sales follow up system.”

“That’s interesting, Mitchell. Once you’re settled in, call for an appointment and we’ll discuss your services.”

                                                    ****                                                                                               Commercial fishing boats, sight-seeing boats, fishing and charter boats for hire: ‘Fisherman’s Wharf’ not a pretentious name to attract  tourists but truly a functioning wharf with, minimally, ten long piers, many with, depending on size, three or four boats secured bow to stern on either side of each pier.

Completely dark now, the entire scene eerily lit by glass encased bare bulbs atop and running intermittingly along the length of the piers.

‘Fisherman’s Grotto Restaurant’: a huge barn of a place with nautical memorabilia hanging upon the walls and suspended from the high pitched ceiling.

Dimly lit by high hanging, old fashioned wooden wagon wheel chandeliers, along with flickering lanterns on each table barely giving light enough to read the menu.

“Harriet!” Motioning to a disheveled but attractive, possibly seventy year old woman in a denim pants suit.

“Sophie!” Coming from behind the hostess podium, bellowing, “You fat old ‘chink’! Can’t remember the last time I seen you!”

“Yeah, well, it’s a long time since I had a good case of food poisoning, so thought I’d stop by and see my old… very old pal Harriet.”

Hugging, looking over Sophie’s shoulder, “You brought some friends you want poisoned, too, have you?”

Standing apart now, “No, they’re not friends… Well, yes, they are friends, but they’re also clients that just bought Rodney Sawyer’s place.”

“The Sawyers’ place! Well good for you kids!” Hugging Marsha and shaking Mitchell’s hand, “Where you from, sweetie?”

“Don’t get too close to this one, Marsha; she’s an old ‘lesbo’!”

Having no idea what ‘lesbo’ meant, however warming to the hostess, “From Illinois, a place called Schaumburg.”

Asked despondently, “And you bought the Sawyer place from this one,” jerking her thumb in Sophie’s direction.

Glancing at Sophie, “Yes…”

Seeing a line of customers forming, “Then you got the best real estate lady in all of San Diego county. So,” she asked, “you here for dinner?”

“No,” Sophie said facetiously, “we’re here for your annual marble tournament. Yeah, we’re here for dinner!” 

Grabbing four menus “Come on!” Harriet led the three to a table overlooking the wharf. Motioning to a waitress, “These are my friends,” she said, “take good care of them.” To Marsha and Mitchell, “Enjoy your dinner, and when you get all moved in, come on back, ya’ hear!”

“We will,” Mitchell said.

“Okay,” backing away, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Standing at table side, “Can I get you drinks?”

Seeing Mitchell hesitate, “Don’t give it a thought, I’m buying here!”

To the waitress, “Yes,” Sophie said, “I’ll have a Margarita.”

‘Margarita’? He’d heard of Margaritas, but never had one, so, “Me, too, a ‘Margarita’, please”

“Ma’am?”

“Okay,” looking at the waitress, “they know how to make a ‘Harvey Wallbanger’?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I’ll have, then.”

 “So, what did you think of Rodney and Sarah?”

I think they’re kind of snooty, Marsha thought. “They’re really nice.” Marsha said.

“Me?” 

Thinking a moment, trying to formulate his thoughts regarding Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer. Of course grateful that they’d priced their home reasonably enough for he and Marsha to be able to afford and purchase it. However, there is this ‘thing’ about self-assured people, and if they’re extremely wealthy it adds to the aura of…

“ ‘Regal’,” he said. “Rodney and Sarah seem to be ‘regal’.”

Coming with the drinks, placing the Margaritas’ before Sophie and Mitchell and the Harvey Wallbanger before Marsha, “Would you like to place your orders now?”

“Yes. How’s the ‘snapper’ tonight?”

“Fresh,” the waitress said. “Came off the boat about four hours ago. But seeing as you’re special friends of Harriet’s, I’d strongly recommend the Barracuda.”

Looking up from the menu, “Barracuda?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sophia said, “Barracuda’s delicious! Order it, Mitch, I guarantee you’ll love it!”

Shrugging his shoulders, “Okay, I’ll try the Barracuda.” Studying the menu a moment: “Salad with your special garlic dressing, baked potato with sour cream and chives and, uh, asparagus.”

Looking at Marsha…

“The lamb chops, please, with… whatever he’s having.”

“You, Ma’am?”

“I’ll have the Barracuda with, uh, I’ll pass on the salad and have your corn chowder instead and the potatoes with sour cream also and creamed peas.”

Once the waitress left: “What do you and Mitch plan on doing tomorrow?”

“We’re planning on renting a car and look around our new city.”

“We thought we’d drive out towards Sea world,” Mitchell said, “then to Coronado Island and then head into Mexico.”

“If you’re just going to Tijuana, I’d suggest that you leave the car in the parking lot on the American side and walk across the bridge into Mexico. And be sure to have your driver’s license or some kind of identification so you can get back here."      

©October 10, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman