"My granddaughter." May I see your ID again," he was asking The Wanzor but they both surrendered their document."Wendolyn Wanzor Austin V ... born 204.... Capitol City of the Princessapality. You are 15? Why are you here?" Next May ... the 8th. They tell me I'm smart." Wendy von Wanzor Austin ... born 1942. Lansing Michigan." That's me," Wendy said."One hundred and twenty-two years old?" One hundred and twenty-three May 15th," The Wanzor grinned. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you. Cubbyholes contained contraband from the patting, including knives and bottles of alcohol and cameras but no guns. Numbered, with numbers matching coat hangers, a small card handed to the customer assured their return. The lady and gent handling coat check had the homosexual appearance as well, though both were much prettier than the bouncers. Lefty borrowed staff from his exclusive gay club.The space lit darkly from incandescent bulbs hung high above heads in the twenty foot ceiling had. There were cloth-covered tables all about the stone-floored interior. There were Irish flags and other paraphernalia hanging from the rough brick interior walls that bordered a long row of wooden booths, built with tall backs for maximum privacy. Streams of light poured in from the eight-foot-tall, early-19th-century windows that looked like an original feature of the venerable Old Town structure.Sam steered Susan to a booth in the extreme rear. An attractive waitress in a long-sleeved jersey. The various matching outfits she had bought, not just to please me but for her own enjoyment as much as anything.Of course she looked stunning. As we took our seats in the restaurant I could see the spark was still there.“Guess what, I’m not wearing any knickers,” she smirked.This could only mean one thing, or so I thought.“Just as well I bought you some.” I handed her the cute little pink bag with the bow and the magic logo. Her eyes lit up.“I might just have to go to the ladies and put these.