15 March 2009


k., d., t. and I wandered round the corner from their place to eat dinner at a small cafe. k. and co are regular customers - habitués, if you will (and I think you will) - of this establishment and are on a first-name basis with the owner-chef. It was an entertaining and delicious evening. t. flirted his little heart out with the pretty waitress, knowing just when to act all shy and overcome, and knowing when to wail when she took his place of rice away (smiling winningly when she brought him out a fresh plate). He knows how to treat the ladies right: when I walked into their house earlier he said to me, "That's a lovely top, hazelblackberry." Somebody must be schoolin' that child in the wooing arts. No one could just be born that diabolically charming.

After dinner k. and d. wrangled t. into bed and then the three of us hung out on the verandah, having a chat. Unfortunately our conversation was fuelled by alcohol and I regret to say that the only portion I can really commit to the archives is this cryptic moment*:

d: "Well, brown is the new black."
(k. laughs hysterically)
hb: "Now that is eminently unbloggable."

*It means nothing to you, I know. But years from now it'll still raise a smile from me. I hope. Otherwise what's the point?

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