I love my name. What's yours?" Sarah," Sarah mumbled."I'm sorry?" Sarah!" Sarah shouted."Glad to meet you Sarah." The hand remained extended. Sarah fi...ally shook it.What amazed her about the handshake was its perfection. Firm and warm, neither too slimy nor too dry, the soft embrace held confidence and care. It caused Sarah to study this Pollyanna which caused Sarah to smile.Big apple green eyes below a high forehead, a softly rounded nose, straight and somewhat small, with a brief ridge that. Decision made, I went to the car and perused the July issue of Dining out in Atlanta.A photograph of Ambrose Smyth, critic at large, appeared on page fifty-two. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt under a pale green blazer. The shirt was open at the neck, which was obscured by (I'm not kidding) a dark blue with yellow polka-dots ascot, which was tucked inside the shirt. His smile confirmed my suspicion; Smyth had obviously missed more than a few dental appointments. The yellow stains on his. More

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