Outback, Mission Viejo

Outback, Mission Viejo. Rated ★★★☆☆

I refused the bread — better to lose the weight, and I’m downing some carbs here anyhow.

The guy next to me is moving from Atlanta, he’s rooting for the Braves who are losing, he grew up in Houston, and he and his fiancée are moving here because he spends so much time here.

I don’t know if I had to use my Social Security card before, and now they want it for registration at Mesa. Wonder if I can find it somewhere.

I think my rent on this stool is about to expire. I did make him laugh a lot, reminding me that I’ve got a lot more personality now than I used to, or at least I let it out; I don’t know if long ago I would have walked into a restaurant in a kilt and had dinner by myself, and talked to the person next to me and the waitress — “I don’t know what my Mom could have done when I was a kid to make me like veggies, but I know she didn’t do it.”