Did you ever have a friend that you don’t see often, nor even live in the same city, yet you’re still instantly friends when you see each other again? Years can go by and you pick up again like no time passed at all. Daisy was one of those friends and in our case, we lived on different planets.
I walked into the raw food bar and he was already sitting at a two-person table. He immediately stood up upon seeing me for the first time in nearly twenty years.
“It’s too loud in here. Let’s sit outside. I ordered you a smoothie.” His bizarrely high pitched voice brought a smile to my face.
Daisy Eatherton looked to be a man in his late fifties, very short, just over 5ft, with shaggy gray hair and a bright blue Hawaiian shirt. He shuffled his bare feet into slippers he’d kicked off under the table and led me with his order number held high out to the restaurant’s patio.
“Is anyone sitting here? Anyone?” he asked, startling a straightlaced group of customers in their corporate attire with his falsetto voice.
He slid into the empty picknick table and gestured I take the opposite bench.
“Daisy, you haven’t aged a day. I was expecting a very old man.”
His prolonged high pitch laugh at this statement sent the yuppies into silent fast eating.
