had at least shifted his weight to an alternate buttock over the weekend and not mummified into a mountain. What a surprise. Not only was Bobby eating a breakfast burrito, he was doing it in front of a horrified audience of one: an immaculately dressed black woman who was so engrossed in watching bits of scrambled egg and black bean sauce dribble down Bobby D.’s front that she did not even look up when I walked in. “Casey!” Bobby bellowed enthusiastically, spraying his desk with bits of black bean. “You’ve got a visitor.” Cash register signs practically danced in his eyes. If she was a new client, he had a percentage cut on the way. I didn’t think he should count this particular chicken just yet. Watching Bobby D. eat had turned the woman green, which is quite a feat since she had started out as deep brown. I didn’t recognize her. She looked like she could run a Fortune 100 Company. Her blue business suit was silk and why it wasn’t wrinkled was beyond me. I can’t even put on silk underwear without it looking like the back end of a Shar-Pei puppy.
