Big Day at the Office

So yesterday my posse and I met and prepared for an evening meeting with the TV Guy, who took on the lawyer who betrayed us.  We went out to lunch and then had a sit com-like moment: the receptionist told us that a process server had come, looking for the leper. The receptionist told the server the Defendant was no longer among us, but got the case information and passed it to a secretary, who looked it up.

It was a lawsuit from a credit card company asking for the $85,000.00 in unpaid bills. The dude was truly circling the drain. Now he'll go down someone else's drain.

The meeting went well -- the TV Guy was sharp and nice, and impressive. He's a former hippie, as he told us, who hails from Canada. That explained his niceness, which combined with his acumen, made him an impressive guy.  The four of us had an amicable discussion about how to handle the cases the leper stole from us.  Perhaps things will work out, or we'll let the courts decide. Either way, we now move on.

But then came the important part of the night: dinner. My two Aventurans rarely venture to the South part of the County -- I suggested Salvatore, a go-to Italian place. I arrived first to see they are very closed on Monday. But I looked up and saw signs for Cafe Catula, a place I've long wanted to try, on the other side of Sunset Drive.

I parked, and the place was buzzing, with a large party of kids from Belen High, the place many rich Cubans send their kids. I took a seat at the bar and waited for Stu and Paul. A friendly couple struck up a conversation -- they worked for the Social Security Administration, and I joked that I would soon be a client.

My crew arrived, and we were soon into deep conversation about the meeting. My new friend Eddy tapped me on the shoulder -- did I recognize who was standing behind me? It was Emilio Estefan -- wife of Gloria, and a real big shot here in town. I joked I had met him years ago -- backstage at Broward Theater, at a Bernadette Peters' show. Some former clients were good friends with the diminutive Queens Broadway and movie star, and I met Gloria and Emilio. They were very diminutive -- and charming.

We retired to a table, and ate delicious food. Stu got the osso bucco, and it may have been better than the one at Il Gabbiano, which always has the best.  We toasted our brotherhood, and the fact that the leper and his huge debts were no longer associated with us. We bet on how long he'd last with the TV Guy. I bet less than a year -- his act will soon wear thin, and his excuses to cover his laziness will be exposed. But again -- no longer our problem.

We got up to leave, and Emilio was emerging from the restroom. I said hello, and he stopped, saying I looked familiar. I told him we had met at the Bernadette Peters' show, and he said he remembered -- he was being charming, but said Gloria had just left. She is so small and typically Miami looking, we hadn't even noticed her. They were celebrating a niece's birthday. I joked that I hoped he picked up the tab.

Paul took a few photos of us with Stu, and off he went, "back to work in the studio." It was 10:30 p.m. and he said they had a huge new project in Brazil. Clearly you don't rise to the top of the music biz without crazy effort -- and he's in his mid 60s...

So it was a fine day and evening. And at some point, the process server will be showing up at the TV Guy's office. I can imagine he'll be a bit dismayed when he realizes the dude he hired to run part of his law practice is even more in debt than he probably let on. Again -- no longer our problem.

Time wounds all heels...