Whining 'n Dining

Break out the bubbly: Gill and I head out to our favorite Karmiel restaurant to celebrate our half-anniversary (7.5 years, waddaya know). Towards the end of the meal, a guy who looks like a handyman stomps in and asks us how everything is. Turns out he is the chef. Also turns out that he is a very charming guy from Mexico, and we have a nice chat about Mexican food. The moral of the story: don't judge a chef by his plumber's crack.

The other day I saw a deranged street person walking down the sidewalk, holding an animated conversation with himself. Since street people are a very rare sight here, I did a double-take. He was clearly having some sort of psychotic episode—waving his hands, arguing with himself—but he seemed awfully well groomed for a homeless guy. Only as he neared me did I spot the Bluetooth receiver hooked over his ear and the cell phone clipped onto his belt.