We drove for twelve hours to get to Miami. We left my frozen hometown of Frederick, Maryland for the fun and sun, and a visit to my grandmother’s.
She lived in an apartment off the main drag. We would sit on her front steps and count the number of Rolls Royces that drove by. I was thirteen and fascinated by the women, the wealth and the beach.
Grandma said that we were being treated to dinner at Benihana’s by her rich friend, Agnes, who lived in Coconut Grove, and that we must be on our best behavior.
Agnes’s home was incredible. There was a maid who was raking the plush carpet all in one direction. She said, “That’s the way Miss Agnes likes it.”
The chef at Benihana’s put on a dazzling display with knives and spatulas. He could cook, chop, flip a shrimp in the air, and make it land precisely where he wanted it. He put one in my mouth–incredible.
Grandma asked Agnes if Ben, her husband, still played golf. She said, “No, he had to give up golf. He could not see his balls.”
This caused me and my brothers to bust out in laughter. Grandma was furious, until she saw Agnes laughing too, and then she joined us in our laughter.