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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Digger met me for lunch at the Imperial Tea House, a big two-story Chinese restaurant around the corner from the loft. I shuffled my feet a little faster down the street when I saw him, standing under their bright red awning in the wintry drizzle, the lapels of his collar hunched up around his neck.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“What are you doing out here? You could wait inside.”
“Wanted to be sure I had the right place. Figured I’d see ya if you went walking by.”
A surly waiter in a tuxedo showed us to a table under a wall sculpture of a phoenix that looked like it had seen better days. The paint on its light bulb eyes was scratched and the wings were chipped like an old plate. I remembered there was a carton of uneaten lo mein in the fridge at the loft waiting for me and ordered General Gao’s chicken.