If at First She Doesn’t Succeed, Mom Tries Again

A waiter at a West Hollywood cafe told John Morgan Wilson this story: A regular lunch customer comes in one day with her unmarried daughter and introduces her to the waiter, a handsome gent. When it becomes clear that the woman considers the waiter prime marriage material, he discreetly lets the mother know that he is gay. End of discussion.

Mother and daughter finish their meal, pay and leave.

A few days later the mother returns for lunch -- with her gay son.

Kodak moment: In Northern California, Joyce and Jim Brown of Palos Verdes Estates happened upon a sign offering a view of an unusual attraction (see photo).

Fascinating reading: An Orange County reader who was sidewalk dining in Miami noticed that his receipt revealed who wound up with one spilled dish (see accompanying).

Freudian slip on the roadway? Davy Jones spotted an ad for a really macho motorcycle (see accompanying). Jones suspects it was actually a Yamaha Virago, a model that really exists.

Come to think of it ... : Since a virago is defined as “a woman regarded as noisy, scolding or domineering,” was the Yamaha designed for a biker’s old lady?

Economic indicator?: Matt Zielke of Orange wondered if you could now put, oh, say, a container of cleanser on hold at one chain store (see accompanying). Actually, the layaway plan is a joke, but the 99 Cents Only folks better be careful. A few years ago, the company touted a bridal registry as a joke and so many people took it seriously the company felt compelled to set up a real registry.

For your “What were they thinking?” file: Near USC’s campus, officers responded to a report of a possible fire and found “a student spraying water from a hose onto two couches that were burning in the driveway,” the school’s public safety department said.

“The student admitted that he set the couches on fire because he wanted to destroy them.”

Doesn’t sound like he’s studying to be a brain surgeon.

Pedal privileges: No doubt about it -- those folks on the Westside sure know how to live.

Even the bicyclists have valets, at least in Santa Monica.

Monroe Morgan sent me a copy of that city’s Daily Press, which disclosed that Santa Monica recently began offering the service Sunday mornings at the farmers market on Main Street.

From a glamour standpoint, the operation is lacking in only a couple of respects. First, the valets don’t wear red jackets. And second, they park on the premises, rather than on a neighborhood street several blocks away (like the restaurant valets that I use always do).

miscelLAny: When you think you feel your cellphone vibrating but it turns out to be your stomach rumbling, you know you ate too much for lunch.

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Steve Harvey can be reached at (800) LATIMES, Ext. 77083, by fax at (213) 237-4712, by mail at Metro, L.A. Times, 202 W. 1st St., L.A. 90012, and by e-mail at steve.harvey@latimes.com.