Dinner At Tim's

If you've never had the privilege of eating at Tim's Cajun Kitchen, do yourself a favor and get the hell down here right now and eat delicious Cajun food.

(Yes, I've been spending a lot of time with the boy.  That should explain my channeling his speech pattern in the previous sentence.)

A while back, I was telling the boy about my buddy Ward and just what a cool friend Ward is.  The boy, never prone to jealousy in words, told me that this was one of my friends that he never wanted to meet.  I never really understood why - I could only assume that he doesn't like me talking too much about my guy friends.

Last night, Ward and I decided to meet for dinner with a few of his friends.  "Are you gonna bring your fella?" he asked me, in his inimitable Southern accent.  "I don't know; I'll ask him," I said.

Telling the boy that I was meeting old college friends for dinner, I asked if he'd like to join us.  "Hell YA!" was his response, since he's fallen in love with Tim's after I took him there last summer.

So the boy and Ward finally met.  And, (unsurprisingly to anyone who's not me) they got along pretty well.  They got each other's esoteric literary and vocabularic (is that a word?) references.  There were no hugs, but the boy's, "Good to meet you, man!" was true.