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Vision is clearer, and alas, lunch with grannies ended up sans Chippendales

I can't lie, I was kind of looking forward to a little beefcake with my lunch yesterday.

Don't judge me, please. I don't get out much, and when I do, it's not usually with a partying crowd.

Anyway, Ming Dynasty not Minx Chinese restaurant aka Minx Gentleman's Club, is closed on Tuesdays. Really. On Tuesdays. Go figure.

So, I gave Grandma Gin a quick call on her cell, who then stopped the van o' blue hairs from trekking all the way up and across town. Knowing the hubub that would ensue should a new restaurant need to be agreed upon, I threw one in the hat, a Vietnamese favorite, May Cafe. Of the many many meals we've had with many many people there, everyone has always been very happy, so it was a good bet.

Grandma suggested May Cafe, which turned out to be unanimously accepted as next best option (and I really think would have trumped Ming/Minx anyway based on what I saw of the exterior of the wanna be Gentleman's Club posing as a Chinese eatery serving 'the only home made dim sum in town'. It looked a little dicey to me, is all I'm sayin'. Especially if there weren't dancers. And I don't think there would have been.

The newest in Gran's world? Politics.

It turns out one of the important committees in which residents organize their thought/wishes for management is headed by a president whose mental faculties are failing him. A PhD in his career, he's now become less lucid than the residents would prefer in a designated spokesperson, so they're contemplating how to gently remove him from his presidency while preserving his dignity (and their voice with management, which is important.)

The consensus is that Grandma Gin should step in, since she's such a 'go getter' and 'on top of all the issues that everyone cares about'. Gosh, Gran, I had no idea you were that connected! I should have guessed though, when she refused to elaborate on certain topics regarding internal issues at her facility.

Apparently I'm not cleared for that level of sensitive information. Strangely, I'm ok understanding that.

Everything turned out fine, in the end, with lunch. Lots of food, well prepared, and the restaurant was clearly used to separate checks for each diner (with the exception of Gran's and mine combined bill- she insists it was her turn to treat...we switch off, you see...) The check part can often take as long as the eating part, in my experience, so a smooth payout is welcome, trust me on this.

We're not sure where the next lunch will be, but I'll have that info shortly, as Gran is on the newsletter committee and edits the monthly editions. She has the inside scoop.

This doesn't surprise me, either.

The lesson here? Information is king, regardless of your stage in life.

Grandma Gin is living proof that knowing how to maneuver well within complex political frameworks is critical whether you're 40 or 90.

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