Janice and I had a window seat at the Blue Coyote Café. Our lattes had just been delivered and I had a raisin crumb cake and Janice a brownie. She’d already gobbled down half of it. “Oh, Molly,” she said, “this brownie is so delicious. You just have to try a bite.”

I considered it but kind of rolled my eyes at the same time.

“Suit yourself,” she said, and with her next bite she all but polished off the brownie. I stared at my crumb cake. Why is it that the tiniest nibble of almost anything and I put on sixteen pounds, and Janice can eat like a horse and not gain an ounce?

“Look at that,” Janice said, while I was still studying the crumb cake.

“What?”

“Out on the street. That guy with the purple pants.”

I looked out onto the street. A man and a woman were just crossing. The man was wearing purple pants.”

“What a hunk,” Janice said. “I’d do him in a second. Half a microsecond.”