by Jerry Dawson
“Patty, are you one of those lesbians?”
“Mom! Where do you come up with this stuff? I didn’t mean I’m not marrying anybody ever. Just not right now. I can’t even meet anybody without a car.”
“What about that nice boy that bought you the battery? What’s he like?”
I sighed and accepted defeat. “He’s tall and thin. Brown hair.” Thick, wavy brown hair. I wish I had his hair. “He’s a photographer, and he seems like a real nice guy.
“But he probably thinks I’m such a loser. I whined to him about not having any money, then my car wouldn’t work and he had to drag me to Walmart and back. He’d probably run for the hills if I ever called him back.”
“How do you know? Do you have his number?”
“Yeah, he gave it to me.”
“Well, he didn’t give it to you because he never wanted to see you again.”
Hmm.
__________
Sam here.
The next morning, I woke up to a heavy rain. I didn’t have anything urgent scheduled, so it looked like a good day to catch up on work at home. I poured myself a bowl of Cheerios, added some Grape Nuts to fill in the holes, shook them together, poured in milk and sat down in front of my computer.
I don’t remember getting up at all until my phone rang and took me out of my zone. It rang again and I looked at the clock on my computer screen. 11:00 a.m. Whoa. I looked at my phone and saw Patty on the display. While my brain was registering that name, the phone rang a third time, and I snapped out of my stupor and hit the speaker button before it went to voicemail.
“Hi, Patty. What’s up?”
“Oh, good, you’re there. I need your help again.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s my car again.”
I perked up and took the phone off speaker, concerned that I got her the wrong battery or something.
“I spent all that money for a new battery, and now they’re telling me it needs a new alternator. They want four hundred and fifty dollars for that.”
“Oh, no! So you didn’t need a new battery after all?” I asked.
“No, they said my battery was bad anyway, but it was probably the alternator that ruined it. Anyway, there’s no way I can afford four hundred and fifty dollars. And what’s worse, I got a call for a magazine article that I can’t do if I can’t drive. It pays three hundred dollars plus expenses! I’ve never gotten expenses before.”
“What’s the article? Where do you have to go?”
“Over toward the Smokies. The article is on restaurants in western North Carolina. Hidden gems that not many people know about.”
“When do you have to be there?” I asked.
“Sometime soon. I haven’t called any restaurants to schedule anything yet. I have a lot of research to do if I’m going to take this assignment, but how am I going to get there?”
“I can take you. I’m booked the rest of this week, but next week is free for me. If you can schedule your visits then, I’ll drive. What do they pay for expenses?”
“Hotels and meals. The IRS mileage rate.”
“Awesome. I can do that.”
“That’s really sweet, but you have to do your work, too. I can’t ask you to take all that time off for me.”
“It’ll be fun. I can take your pictures for you. Maybe I can convince some of the restaurants to let me photograph their dishes for new menus. You do provide pictures with your articles don’t you?”
“Sometimes. One restaurant I covered before provided their own pictures. I have to take my own pictures for the Weekly. I just use my phone for that.”
“I’ll take care of your photography for you. Don’t worry. I’ll make you proud.”
“You sure you’re okay doing this?” Patty asked. “You’re being so sweet.”
I love that drawl. “Absolutely. Schedule it for next week.”
Monday morning I picked Patty up at her apartment building. She came down to my Subaru dragging two suitcases and carrying two bags over her shoulder. “What is all that stuff?” I asked incredulously.
“The suitcases are full of clothes. The bag has my computer in it, and this is my purse.”
“Three days, right?”
“Yeah. That’s why I brought my bigger suitcase.”
Three hours later, we were walking down a sidewalk in Asheville. First stop was the Honey Pot, an intriguing name for a restaurant if I ever heard one.
A girl brought us two menus and asked us to follow her to a table. Patty introduced herself and told her that she was here to see the manager.
“Oh, you’re the reporter that’s coming today. Come on in.”
She took us to a tattooed, spiky-haired lady in her early forties. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Pam. You must be Patty.”
“Yes, and this is my, ah—”
“Photographer,” I jumped in, proffering my hand. “Sam Taylor.”
“Well, welcome to the Honey Pot. Can I show you two around?”
“Please,” Patty said, and Pam led us to the kitchen to start her grand tour.
After showing us her restaurant and providing the complete history, Pam said, “I have the kitchen preparing a sampler of all our favorite dishes. It’s such a nice day out, would you like to sit outside?”
Pam and an almost identical looking girl twenty years younger brought four oversized plates of food to our table. We were outside, but a rail separated us from the sidewalk, so it still felt like we were inside part of the restaurant.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of food,” I said.
“And it all looks absolutely delicious,” Patty said. “You have to tell me about all these fabulous dishes.”
I gotta hand it to her. Patty really turned on the charm and gushed over everything while Pam told each piece’s story. I opened up my camera bag and selected a 55-200 millimeter zoom lens and almost missed Patty picking up a fork to stab something with a couple dark, sparkly pecans on top.
“Hold on,” I said. “I don’t even recognize most of these things. I have to get some pictures before you dive in.”
“What don’t you recognize?” Patty asked. “Haven’t you ever seen a sweet potato pancake before?”
“Um, no, I haven’t. And I’ve never seen any kind of pancake that looks like that.”
I got Patty to hold up a fabric reflector I carry with me for outdoor shots like this. It makes a great backlight when I can get the sun behind me or when I use a flash, which I did now since we were underneath an awning that blocked the sun. I got plenty of good shots I thought should be magazine worthy.
The food was amazing, and Patty took pages of notes. I thought she could write a whole article on this place alone. After getting a wonderful fill of samples, I got up to take some pictures of the restaurant. I walked through the entire place again, taking pictures of servers and plates of food. Two booths of people saw me and asked me to take their pictures too. I gave each table a business card and told them if they email me permission to use their images, I’d send them a copy of their picture.
Eventually I realized that all the servers here were women, which wasn’t that unusual, but so were most of the customers. I looked a little closer and realized that almost all the servers had spiked hair, too many earrings and tattoos aplenty. The customers were in pairs—again, mostly women, and half of them looked just like the wait staff. I saw the name of the restaurant in reverse through the front window and smiled as the relevance hit me. The Honey Pot.
I walked back to the table to switch lenses to get some shots of the front of the building. Just as I got there, Pam returned with a plate of desserts.
Eventually, we finished and waddled our way back to the car.
“If I worked there, I’d weigh two hundred pounds,” Patty said.
“If you worked there, you’d probably keep the weight off running away from your coworkers.”
Keep reading at https://www.amazon.com/Sam-Pattys-1st-Adventure/dp/B074KN41KF
. Fi
nd out about the other hidden gems (hint: they’re not all restaurants) and how one of them gets Sam and Patty into a whole heap of trouble.
Other Books by Jerry Dawson
Sam ’n’ Patty’s 1st Adventure: Hidden Gems
Sam is a carefree photographer. Patty is a timid journalist. When a simple magazine assignment pits them against a small-time fencing operation in the North Carolina mountains, Sam must survive kidnappings, wildlife, and a cake that tastes a little too good, to save Patty’s life.
Sam ’n’ Patty’s 2nd Adventure: Goats ’n’ Boats
After Sam and Patty witness a murder in Glacier National Park, the killers are in hot pursuit. Too impatient for the police investigation, Sam goes undercover with the killers where neither the police nor Patty can prevent him from becoming their next victim.
Sam ’n’ Patty’s 3rd Adventure: Goddess of Fire
Our freelance couple goes to Hawaii to see the Ironman and write a magazine article on Kona coffee to pay for their trip. Instead, they fall into a smuggling operation and a confluence of natural disasters that leaves them wondering if they’ll make it off the island alive.
A Better Way
Have you ever gotten so frustrated with corporate bureaucracy that you wanted to pitch it all and move to a tropical island? Well, Kevin Allen does just that, and he falls in love with his new life on a small resort … until his success with a small business venture catches the attention of two companies from his past: one is offering the deal of a lifetime, and the other threatens to take away everything Kevin has worked for.
Coalshine
Marine veteran Richard Walker wants to get his new solar power plant on line. Coal baron Dobb Blackledge wants to expand his mountaintop removal mining operations. Their goals clash and the locals take sides. Richard has worked hard to avoid the violence of his past life, but if the sheriff can’t stop the escalating threats against him, he is very capable of taking care of it with his own resources.
Meteor
Alien meets Jurassic Park in this fast-paced science fiction thriller when a meteor from outside our solar system brings more than just iron and rock to a remote Pacific island. Look for this on amazon.com.
See these and more at jerrydawsonbooks.com
About the Author
Jerry Dawson spent many years in engineering and technical sales before taking his writing hobby to the next level. He now writes in various genres from humorous adventure to thriller, with his goal always being to carry away his readers to compelling destinations with engaging journeys along the way.
Jerry and his wife live in North Carolina, while their children are off creating their own adventures.
jerrydawsonbooks.com
