Thursday, May 27, 2010


People sometimes suggest to me that I know more than my share of characters, or else am exaggerating people's eccentricities. I swear, neither is true. But then other times I start to wonder.

The other night at an ironical prom, we met a young man, very dashing in regimentals, with whom we ended up going to a sinister and exclusive Weimar-esque club. We ended up having to leave without saying goodbye, and I wrote with my regrets, since he is now across the pond. Anyway, here's what I received:


I'm the most dreadful cad for leaving you and your chap amidst the vespertine fray, but I'd managed to disgrace the queen's uniform by throwing up the best part of a sloppy joe in the stairwell, only to be asked back in by the manager and force fed tequila ad infinitum. Insensible with drinking on a now empty stomach I had to admit defeat without the good grace to say goodnight to the pair of you, or even locate my missing spur.

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