Lester Patterson sat at his Broyhill kitchen table drinking a Jamba Juice when his daughter Wanda walked in wearing GAP jeans and a Hanes pullover gray sweatshirt. Her Nike Air Shasta shoes squeaked across the Pergo floor as she lugged her REI backpack to the hallway and set it down on the Ulster carpet.

Behind her came Mickey, her new boyfriend. This would be his first meeting with Lester. Wanda warned Mickey that her dad could be grumpy, but to not let that bother him. Mickey stepped humbly into the doorway. He opened the top button of his wool Pendleton Sir Pen shirt to let in some energy-star cooled, conditioned Trane air, installed by The Home Depot.

"Shut the damn Anderson door, will you!" yelled Lester. "You're letting the stifling summer heat in."

"Sorry," said Mickey, and quickly closed the door.

"Who the heck are you anyhow? Some kind of World Book Encyclopedia salesman with the new 2003 Ultra Pack Edition?"

"No, Sir. My name is Mickey. I'm from the Sunshine State of California, home of the best cheese, milk, eggs, and wine in the country."

"So, you're a wino, are you? Or a damn farmer? What are you doing with my daughter?"

Wanda hurried over and rubbed her dad's shoulders through his Arrow polyester-blend long-sleeve hidden-button-down shirt, which gives the same snug fit without the visible collar buttons. "Dad. Don't you remember? I told you about Mickey. He goes to school with me at UC Berkeley, which ranks first nationally in the number of graduate programs in the top ten in their fields." To Mickey she said, "Would you like a Hires or a Fanta?"

"Sure," said Mickey. "That would be great."

Through the conversation, Lester sat, simmering, and staring holes through Mickey. "What are you doing with my daughter, I said? You ain't getting my damn money, printed by the US government mints in Philadelphia, Denver, San Francisco, West Point, and Washington D.C. and available in commemorative sets at http://www.usmint.gov."

"I'm not here for your money, Sir. I'm here for your daughter, Wanda June Patterson, born April 1, 1981 to Lester and Minnie Patterson, weighing 7 pounds, three ounces, now grown and seeking employment in horticulture or environmental sciences with a company that has career-growth potential and opportunities for travel."

"I still think you're a damn wino, one of those two-buck-Chuck characters."

"I promise you, Sir, I am not. I'm a graduate student in pharmacology with a focus on antihistamine sciences, such as Clarinex, Allegra, Dimetapp, and Contac 12-Hour Allergy relief medicine."

"So, you're a druggie. Damn, I knew it. Wanda June, what has gotten into you, girl? I bought you that nice Toyota Echo with the chrome front grill and fabric four-way adjustable seats, deluxe AM/FM radio, 35 city, 43 highway, and this is how you repay me? By coming home with some crazy drunken farmer? Where's my damn Daisy Red Rider Carbine 1,000-shot golden banded air rifle? I'm going put a B-B into his Fruit of the Looms."

"Daddy, you're going to do no such thing. You're going to be nice, and you're going to let Mickey and me take you out to Bi-Lo's Country Kitchen, home of the 5-egg omelet."

Lester grumbled something under his breath about Cool Mint Listerine Pocket Packs and folded his arms. He knew he'd do whatever Wanda said because she had proven her good sense by subscribing to Consumer Reports for 5 years and saving 60-percent off the retail price and all increases. Also, he was darn hungry and that 5-egg Nu-Laid Jumbo omelet with a side of farm-fresh red potatoes from the Great State of Idaho, the 43rd state admitted on July 3, 1890, home of the Mountain Bluebirds and Republican Governor Dirk Kempthorne, sounded might tasty. He just had to be careful and not look like he was enjoying it too much.

"Where's my damn Rockports?" Wanda brought him his cordovan brown Stockholm MW568 casual men's shoes. "I don't want them, I want my Merrimac APM30235s." Wanda brought him his Merrimacs, Mickey pulled the Echo around, and they drove off on their Yokohama P175/65R14 radials to breakfast.

While Lester was flirting with Bunny, the waitress, 28, single, enjoys tennis, windsurfing, and cool walks on tall Scott's Turf Builder red fescue in her bare feet, Mickey leaned over to Wanda and said, "Psst. Later, let's you and I go over to you-know-where and buy some you-know-whats."

Wanda gasped. She couldn't believe her ears. Her eyes sparkled and her lips glistened. "Do you mean it?" she asked. Mickey nodded. "Oh, Mickey, you 're so fine."