I'm at a middle-eastern restaurant in Newberg. I think it's a new place, it just moved there from somewhere closer to my house, but I used to go to the restaurant before it moved, and the proprietor is familiar.

I'm just finishing my meal when I see my childhood friend Randy sitting over in the corner. He beckons to me for help; like in real life, he has some physical infirmities. I go nearer to there, where I catch his whisper that he can't find his bandanna. I point him to where it is under his chair, and he acknowledged with a nod, and picks it up. I go back to my table.

Then I think, that was a little rude. He used to be my best friend, and now I didn't even say hello? I should sit and talk with him for a bit. He seems a little hurt too, somehow. James Wolff and Mark McNally (*) are there too, but they don't notice me and it's not as important to talk to them. I had planned to leave now, but I feel socially pressured to stay and I guess have another meal.

So I invite Randy over to my table, and I try to talk to him but I'm interrupted by my grandfather George, who shows up with a pile of papers and starts showing them to me, asking me to explain them, and I feel like it's really rude to Randy but I can't stop him. I joke "George, meet George", which makes sense somehow.

(* I saw James and Mark at the Newberg Old Fashioned Days, along with another fellow whose name I don't recall, but they didn't notice me, and I didn't talk to them.)