An Old "Pal"

Walked Kimball, had breakfast, then spent a considerable amount of time selecting, folding, and packing clothes to take on my trip. I probably have too much--I always pack heavy--and can't decide whether to bring my bathing suit or not. Maybe I will, although I doubt if we'll be swimming.
While I was at this computer, my phone rang. When I answered, a male voice said what I thought was "Hello, slob." I was taken aback; had no idea who it was, but it was my old pal, Jimmy D. He had actually greeted me with"hello, snob," in reference to my correcting the English on one of those moronic "inspirational" quotes he had posted on Facebook (It was from taken from a page pretty obviously written by subnormal third-graders.)
Anyhoo, he wanted Betty's phone number; they had been an item sixty years ago. I gave it to him and he said he was in Jersey, along with "Mollie." His girlfriend? No, his dog, which used to be his wife's, who died six months ago. I had met them for breakfast almost three years ago and here's an overview from my blog of October 22, 2014:

--Jim hasn't changed one iota--not even a smidgen--since he was the teenaged boaster and braggart I knew as a girl. He and wify got to Romanelli's just as I did and we sat down to catch up. She, by the way, is very nice; a little country girl from Minnesota, she's small and thin with a warm manner and sweet smile. We both endured Jim's non-stop yakking: "I play a lot of golf, I was on a golf tour, that's how good I am; my daughter's a multi-millionaire, she adopted a girl from a white trash family, but they have good genes*; other daughter was with Facebook for two years, she's married to a cervical specialist**; we've been to fifty countries, we go on a lot of cruises, we have two coming up soon..." and so on and on. He also whipped out an android so he could show me the inside of his "villa" in Texas. It's decorated in the boring kind of pseudo-southwestern that features too much oak and wrought iron, but I dutifully expressed admiration. My tooth was still sore, so I ordered very soft scrambled eggs. We spent only an hour or so together (they had driven from Texas and were heading back), but before we parted, I handed Jim the fifteen or twenty letters he had written me in 1955 and '56. He seemed a bit aggrieved I didn't want them, but I'm sure Lou will be interested. I assured her we were never a couple; he and my twin were. We hugged goodbye and drove off. It was a pleasant enough interlude, but I barely know the twenty-year-old girl involved and I was anxious to get back to my real life.--
*I can't figure that out, either.
** Have no idea what that is--gynecologist?

Went to town after lunch, where Betty called to say Jim had called her and was taking her to dinner tonight. Ho, ho, I can't wait to get a report. Walked and stopped to buy a small wallet-type purse; my other is too big and bulky and I don't want to take it on the trip.