"Would you mind if I just made a general announcement to the whole restaurant instead?" was Mrs. Dada's question after the waitress suggested she visit each table of hungry lunchtime diners there, seeking to taste firsthand the reputation of a world renown green chile cheeseburger.
"Yes, that will be fine," the waitress consented.
Meanwhile, outside Manny's Buckhorn Tavern, the parking lot's asphalt was absorbing the mid-day heat as its overflow cache of cars played catch with the sun's rays, bouncing them between their metallic surfaces in an increasingly frantic game of hot potato. I was sitting in one of those cars, attention focused on a black topped Colorado convertible with windows rolled tight, waiting for Mrs. Dada's return. Fortunately, she had left me some water to drink.
Back inside, Mrs. Dada located a central spot in the Buckhorn from which to launch her message to all present. "Excuse me," she began, "but someone here left their dog in a car outside with its windows rolled up." She continued, explaining, for travelers unaccustomed to the fierce heat of the desert, that could mean a sudden end to a beloved pet.
Moments later in my rear view mirror, I watched as a lone man exited the Buckhorn, heading toward the black-topped Colorado convertible. Next followed Mrs.Dada shortly behind him. She had just finished a brief 'conversation' with the female companion of the man enroute to his sealed convertible.
"I left the windows down," the woman said, perhaps more to save face than dog. "Besides, I left him some water," she added.
Same as Mrs. Dada had done for me. Too bad they didn't leave the engine running with the air conditioner on too. Just like I had been enjoying while waiting for my master to return.