I found out Thursday night that it’s no longer a man’s world. And I was pretty happy about it.
The Palm Beach County chapter of the National Association of Women in Construction (Are you still with me? Twelve words in that title) met at a small restaurant in West Palm Beach, and I was the guest speaker, holding forth on my book MURDER IN PALM BEACH: The Homicide That Never Died. I actually didn’t talk at much length before the 18 ladies present shot some pertinent questions my way.
Before the presentation, I was plied with the best meal I’ve had in memory. Gourmet all the way. Café Toscano, in Village Square, 107A Village Blvd., southwest off of Palm Beach Lakes Boulevard, between I-95 and Okeechobee Boulevard. I figured the prices would preclude a return by a starving writer, so I checked online. What a surprise! Low to moderate, for a great selection. I mean, come on — $9.95 for fried calamari, $11.95 for eggplant parmigiano? These days? I’m heading back – soon.
If these gals are clever enough to find such a hidden gem to hold their meetings, they have to know what
they’re doing in the building business. Probably can show us testosterone-imbued members of the human species a thing or two about how to fix a dripping faucet or a hole in a screen door.
I was having so much fun eating and gabbing and – yes, drinking – that I didn’t want to get up and talk. But I’m sure glad I did, because this group was riveted on what I had to say, and kept me going with lively questions. At the end, they bought a slew of books.
I’ll have to buckle down and write some more books, ’cause I want to return to a monthly meeting of this NAWIC chapter. No kidding, I can’t remember receiving such great treatment. Thanks, ladies.
