Last night we went out for dinner and he had a good shirt on. His only shirt on. Pretty impressive, even though we've done this many times before. You know, get a sudden office arrangement and leave the country for a couple of months at ends, worst case would be to be away with no internet and no phone reception. That would be Myanmar, but he wasn't as attached to me then.
We went to our usual 'good dining' place in the east coast, where the setting is calm, serene and in his own words se-taill-low. They were shooting an episode of an eating series, where the host was a daughter of a famous local chef. He-hey I thought, free live entertainment rrritee? Excellent.
He has been complaining to me about his bowel movements, they have been odd, long but not painful. And out came the fireworks. Thank you so much for the perfect timing of cake, getting my 3 seconds of fame if it ever comes out. And I can vividly recall that I felt I looked drabby. I'll never be able to top this, not by a chance.
