Drank a cutini (I have no idea how it’s spelled but, true to its name, it contained cucumber, as well as a spiced rim, and an olive at the bottom, not to mention ALCOHOL)
Had the need for business cards impressed upon me (you can only pass off ripping a page from your battered red Moleskine as “charmingly rustic” when there is a three-cutini minimum in effect)
Flew toward the bright light and saw the zeitgeist of our times in my singed wings and the grinning skull lurking in the filament
Had my suspicion that style will always, always trump substance confirmed
Received kindness and in the process hopefully got over myself a little bit (sometimes you find the rose in the heart of the canker)
And, and, last but certainly not least, went into stitches over this.
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