“And you are trying to make the impossible happen,” I told her. Then we went ahead and stuffed our mouths.

Cock Blocking

JUDI AND I DROVE OVER to a place called The Outfitters Warehouse for my wardrobe selections. I had to shoot at several Miami Beach locations for Class-A Jewelry, wearing complimentary outfits. Class-A wanted outfits that would pop. So I tried on a lot of bright colors: oranges, limes, rich golds, turquoise blues.

Judi had nothing on her schedule, so she decided to spend the entire day with me.

“I really like the orange on you. It’s pretty blinding,” she commented. I was trying on an orange button-up short-sleeve with a wide collar. I didn’t check for the designer. I tried not to. I was into style, and the designers who created what I liked reaped the rewards of their mention in the back credits.

“Yeah, as long as it doesn’t overpower the jewelry,” I responded.

Henry Shoals, the stylist, and Mark Simion, the photographer, were both there.

“The white gold would work well with that orange,” Judi suggested.

Henry nodded. “Hmm, she has a point. That orange shirt would overpower the yellow gold, but it would definitely bring life to the white.”

Henry was a short, gray-haired white man in his early fifties who still had a young man’s energy and zest for life. Mark was much younger, in his late twenties. He was just happy to be there on assignment. He had a loose, hippie style of dress and dark curls. His camera hung around his neck.

“That works for me,” he told us.

Judi said, “The lime green sets off the yellow gold. But you could probably get away with an olive as well. A darker green would allow the yellow gold to stand out a little more.”

Mark checked out her theory from behind the lens of his camera. I wore a yellow gold watch and link chain.

“She’s good,” he said with a nod.

“What about the platinum jewelry?” Henry asked her.

Judi told him, “The turquoise blue. Platinum is more of a metallic tone than gold. Blue is a metallic color, and the turquoise blue adds a little extra flavor to it.”

She spoke with the same raw confidence with which she always carried herself.

I joked and said, “Are you guys planning on paying her for this?” She was doing their job better than they were.

“Yeah, I may have to hire her to help me,” Henry quipped.

I said, “She lives right here in Miami.”

“I sure do,” Judi told him.

He said, “We’ll definitely exchange numbers.”

IT WAS WELL after seven when we finished with the wardrobe, and Judi and I were both hungry again. We stopped at a place called the Golden Dish, a Thai restaurant in the middle of downtown Miami.

While we waited for our food, I stared at the intricate paint job and artwork that covered the walls.

“We need to do more of this kind of thing with soul-food restaurants,” I said to Judi.