Three weeks after first meeting Trish I received a phone call from her. She obviously remembered my surname , that I lived at Mt Gravatt and was keen for the coffee I’d invited her to have. We arranged to meet at La Scoops, a coffee shop at Coorparoo, the following Tuesday evening at 7-30pm. Every Tuesday night I played squash with friends at 5-30pm so finished my game of squash, hurried home, showered and changed and sat in my trusty Toyota Corona to head off. Amazingly the Corona would not start. I did not have Trish’s number to ring her and thought “do I want to see this lady?” as I knew that if I didn’t front any such hope would vanish – she’d be unlikely to ring me again if I stood her up. I decided to knock on my neighbour's door. When John answered the door I asked him “are you busy?”
“No, not really!”
“You couldn’t drive me to Coorparoo, could you?”
He happily agreed and I duly arrived at the coffee shop, perhaps about ten minutes late and Trish, punctual as ever, was already there. We had an engaging evening and she kindly offered to drive me home alleviating the need for a 6 kilometre walk on my part. When we arrived at my place I asked her if she’d like to come in and see my kitchen. “No thanks, I need to be off!”she replied bluntly while holding her keys in the attack position.
“But I’ve had a new kitchen installed today and no one’s seen it – I’d love you to have a look!” (true). She did come in and was impressed with my kitchen and I think it gave me some brownie points, although when she went to my bathroom the brownie points quickly plunged into the minuses. Fortunately she overlooked thethick purple felt wall papered bathroom. That was fourteen years ago and I still ask her every day "care for a coffee?"
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