OK, so on Monday, I meet the fabulous and talented Julia London at my absolute favorite restaurant in Austin. We're doing the lunch thing because I want to hit her up for story help on the book that's next in line after the one I'm currently finishing up. Complicated suspense plot, and though I'm already far into the book, I need some bouncing off time. No problem. Julia's great. She's more than happy to help. Plus, the restaurant is right next door to this FABULOUS store with great cards, great jewelry, Hobo bags, and other fun and fabulous items. (We are nothing if not great shoppers.) So, I arrive early w/ my beloved Alphie and get about 5 pp done on the current WIP. The waitress is great, constantly refilling my coffee cup (which, really, is soooooo important). Julia arrives, I run through my story, she offers a few tweaks, and I'm feeling confident and happy about ten minutes later. Life is good. We proceed to more important stuff: general gossiping about life, writing, and everything. The food comes. We eat. (It's good, b/c it always is; this is my favorite restaurant, remember?). We gossip and talk more. The store a/c the parking lot seems to beckon to us like a siren's call. Being polite, we answer the call, grabbing our belongings and trotting over there. We shop. We start to pay. We realize we both have cash. How can this be? We should be cash-less after paying for our food .... And then we realize. We'd skipped the check!!! ARGH. Major embarrassment and feelings of idiocy ensue. We schlep back a/c the parking lot and find the waitress. We pay. We tip REALLY well. We skulk away, hoping they'll have forgotten us the next time we eat there. And, hopefully, if I have the same waitress, she'll still be attentive and refill my coffee cup ....