As an aspiring, suffering (not really), full-time (I wish) writer, I don’t often go out to lunch. Instead I dine at home with Lucy and Annabelle who troll for handouts beneath the kitchen chair. Friday I was meeting a friend for lunch at La Duni. One of my FaVoRiTe Dallas restaurants. Yay!

La Duni’s parking lot is teeny – valet only. As I pulled my $35/per day Flintstone rental car into the lot it was already filled with typical Dallas fancy schmancy vehicles. Valet Man did a double take, likely thinking I intended to turn into the nail salon next door.

Waiting for Valet Man, I spotted a lady walking toward the restaurant from Crate and Barrel’s parking lot across the street. I too considered parking in that lot for free but I am a rule follower. That lot is for ‘retail customers only’. I would hate to have my clown car towed away to Wilmer-Hutchins or some such place.

The lady looked familiar and was dressed smartly in a cotton boucle two piece pastel colored suit. Gold accessories. Perfectly coiffed short hair. Very first lady-like. Laura Bush-like. Stepping lightly across the parking lot in front of my rental, she smiled pleasantly in my direction.

WAIT! It WAS Laura Bush!!!

OMG! I bet she stopped for an asparagus salad after checking on the progress of George’s museum a couple of blocks down Central Expressway!!! We would become instant friends. She would join my book club. I was certain.

Flinging my keys at Valet Man, I raced toward Laura, falling in line behind her sensible bone-colored pumps.

Valet Man: You want a car wash while you eat? (He yelled as I walked away.)
Me: No. This is not my car. It’s just a rental. Hail damage repair, you know. (He didn’t know or care but I hoped Laura heard…)

I was escorted to a booth providing a perfect profile view of Laura. I nonchalantly watched. I was cool. She looked lovely. Extremely put together on a 100 degree day. Was she wearing panty hose?! (This pastel suit and matching bone pump look is one of the many reasons I could never be First Lady. Or Second or Third or President or Vice Anything.)

She seemed a bit uncomfortable. The panty hose? Or because of me? As she turned and smiled, her gaze directed at me, I expected Laura to do a well-practiced parade wave. And then I realized she wasn’t Laura Bush at all...

But she should have been. She lives nearby, and I’m sure she loves La Duni. I was disappointed on many, many levels.

Still waiting for my friend, I decided to explain my stalker behavior. 

Me: Excuse me, I saw you walking in and thought for sure you were Laura Bush!

Fake Laura: Oh that is too funny. 

Me: You look a lot like her. Are you Laura Bush? (I was still not completely convinced…)
Fake Laura: hahaha. You just made my day.  Do you think Laura Bush would really park at Crate and Barrel and sneak over to avoid the valet fee? 

Me: Well, I thought about that and yes. Yes I do. Laura seems practical. Plus there is more room over there for the Secret Service vehicles.

Fake Laura: (laugh laugh laugh) Are you going to Tweet or something about this? 

Me: Yes, probably. (How did she know?)

My friend walked in about this time, saving me from being detained by the Men in Black.

Friend: Oh you’ve run into a friend here?

Me: No, we just met. It’s Laura Bush.

Fake Laura: (just smiling)

She could have been.

talya

Musical Pairings:

Call Me Maybe – Barack Obama

George and I are complete opposites – I’m quiet, he’s talkative, I’m introverted, he’s extroverted, I can pronounce “nuclear” – Laura Bush