The Urantia Book

"Certainly, how about a Sunday afternoon?"

"That would be perfect. Are you available this coming Sunday?"

"You bet. Where would you like to go?"

"How about the Fifties Deli, at one pm?"

"It's a date. How shall I recognize you?"

"I'm blond, six foot two, my hair is almost a third of that, held in place with a string headband. Barbara is about five feet. Anyway, the waitresses know us - they have arguments about which of them gets to look after us. But look, we'll wait in the lobby. If you could do that as well?"

"Good enough, see you there."

12 February 2006 Jack and Barbara enter the deli, and leaning against the railing, waiting for them with a big smile is a tall blond fellow, who strides towards them energetically. "Hello Jack, and you are Barbara?"

"Yes I am. No problem picking us out, is there?"

"None at all, no, none at all. So, let's grab a seat."

Sharon, who was hovering nearby, takes them to her section, and the business of ordering is quickly handled.

"Okay," taking out a note pad and a tiny recorder, "Call me Nick, if you would, and let's get right to it. You will understand that recording our conversation will be much more efficient than my trying to write it all down - that alright with you?"

"Not a problem" allows Jack, "You take the lead, then; you've obviously done this before."