Our international breakfast club

Stan was digging in to the breakfast special: ham, cheese and bell pepper omelet with a dash of sour cream, hash browns and two pancakes, $7.50. Kathleen went with a more traditional bacon and eggs and toast and orange juice. We were at the Sunnyside Restaurant, a popular venue with a black and white checkerboard vinyl floor. Bikers frequent it too, sometimes there's a couple dozen Hogs parked out front, you know, the Boomer kind of Wild Hogs: shiny Harleys with mufflers and polite riders and little Republican bumper stickers, like in the movie by that name.
During our breakfast discussion about what we might stumble on today at the Golden Goose, we kept overhearing snippets from the conversation at the table behind us. In rich accents. Kathleen's curiosity finally got to her so, on the way out, she inquired "Hello, where are you folks from?" (You can just go ahead and do that when you are five feet tall and not very scarey looking.)
Well, that started a 15-minute conversation. We'll cut to the chase.
Gertrude (left) and her late husband were "kicked out" of their home in Czechoslovakia 55 years ago by the Russians. They fled to Germany and eventually immigrated to the United States. She's "lived everywhere" in this country, favors the Southwest and has opinions about everywhere else. She's allergic to black pepper and Christmas trees. Doesn't golf. Exactly where does she live? On No. 23, Catalina Course, right over the flagstick. She believes golfers are playing better these days because there aren't as many golf balls in her yard as there used to be. Or her neighbor is stealing from her.
Let's see. The Rolfsruds are on No. 22, Catalina. Howdy, neighbor!
That's Gladys with her in the photo, above. Her husband is off paying the check. They're Canadian snowbirds from Vancouver with thick German accents.
We didn't ask.