The break of spring

My favorite Starbucks has empty chairs. At the nail place, manicurists stand idly around the little TV in the back watching Bold & Beautiful. You want a mani-pedi, it'll only take 20 minutes instead of an hour because you'll get a separate technician for every hoof.

Along the Katy Trail, that wisteria-dripping ribbon of pavement cutting through Highland Park and Oak Lawn, the elbow-pumping exer-rexics in greek letters are missing, leaving more room for strollers of every kind, including the wheeled and the shod.

At Toulouse, the faux French cafe of the moment, no reservations needed for lunch. At Celebrity Cafe, where they usually fetch their big iced teas and tiny muffins (only $2.50 apiece), now only the grackles occupy the outside tables, fighting for crumbs.

At Tom Thumb grocers and Central Market, the truly handicapped are able to park in their designated spots without cursing the pony-stickered Porsche Cayennes who've trespassed "just for a minute--I'll be right back!"

It's Spring Break. They've gone away. And for a few more days we get to live in an Ashley-free zone.