Hong Kong Fooey arranged for RobertPlant and I to head along to a quiz night with him. [And who should I spy there, but Cellobella (to her frustration, I did not introduce myself: occasionally I can be overcome with galloping shyness)]. As usual, we did pretty badly. Not helped by me changing a couple of answers. I don't normally do things like that, and now I see why.
Hong Kong Fooey was being most gentlemanly to me all evening, commenting on how great my hair looked.
He said it for about the fifth time: "Your hair looks great, haze: in fact, you look great!"
"Why thank you, Honkers," I said. Then I turned to RobertPlant and hissed, "Why can't you ever say things like that?"
He looked unmoved. "Because I couldn't give a maldicion."
Then a girl on our table piped up, "Wait a minute: are you two together?"
"Noooo!" we shrieked in unison.
"Well, I didn't think so but just then you had me wondering."
I can understand her confusion. Our friendship has lasted longer than many marriages (not looking anywhere), and will probably continue to stagger along. I like to think it's the constant bickering that keeps it fresh.