Hey. Hey-hey-hey. You wanna know what's the quickest way to send me off a rage cliff? Reply to an email, but don't answer every question.
Ahem.
Today I had the fanciest meal I've eaten since the *last* time I had a meal with the Artistic Director. Fantastic potatoes, excellent table bread, creamy cheesecake. Chicken was a little dry, but that's okay. I tried calamari for the first time. I also might've contributed to someone getting fired (or at least demoted from the VIP room), though it wasn't my fault that the waitress dropped my knife down my back while clearing my salad plate. (Thank you, manager who felt the need to offer to pay for dry cleaning. My $20 shirt appreciates that you think it would need such attention.)
I have cheesecake and pie in my fridge. 2016's leftovers are treating me well.
Posts
2 comments:
Fun Fact: Every time you post a title and/or opening paragraph like this, I spend a panicked few moments reviewing the previous week of my life trying to figure out if I'm the offending party. (To my knowledge, it's very rarely been me)
Sorry about that! I don't recall it ever being you, if that helps. For the next month or so, it'll probably always be about Little Women auditions. Or Peter Pan rehearsals.
Post a Comment