Today I was out at The Other Other Coffee Place in the bright blazing sun enjoying an iced cawfee and a treat, when I saw an unusual sight. A couple from another galaxy, exiting from a red sedan with no front license plate, only a plate holder that read "TOYOTA OF HOLLYWOOD." I'll say here that Washington State is a very casual place -- you don't see people dressed up that much, especially during the day. The woman, in her 60s or maybe even 70s, was wearing a black crepe jumpsuit with long lace sleeves, incredibly high silver heels, MASSIVE sunglasses, and expertly-crafted long silver hair with the perfect amount of product on it. She eyed me, all steely, until I smiled at her, and then she softened and smiled back slightly as she strode confidently on her shiny stilts into the coffee shop.

Her husband -- I assume, anyway -- looked to be about ten years older. He, too, was looking all natty in a cobalt blue silk shirt, with silvery vertical threads running through it. He was wearing the tight high-waisted black pants of a flamenco dancer, expensive-looking black loafers, and walked with a cane. His hair was most magnificent -- bright silver like his wife's, but styled into a fabulous pompadour that, if wet, would hang to his shoulders. A silver Rolex, neck chain, and bracelet complimented the shirt. His gradient-lensed sunglasses were also fashionably oversized.

How I wanted to know their story! I bet Toyota Of Hollywood does. Why were they here, and how did they find the little Other Other Coffee Place? Did they always dress so elaborately? Did they once know Dean and Sammy and Frank, or maybe owned a chain of Italian restaurants? Did they once live in a groovy pad somewhere around Mulholland Drive in the 70s, moving to Bel Air in the 80s, leaving when Iranian family/ham-throwing rock star moved in next door? Did they lose most of their money in an ill-advised dot.com venture, had to buy a Toyota instead of a Jaguar, had to live in Washington instead of California?

Oh, I will never know. Sigh.