This is the Last Time

It was a "Slow Show" kind of an evening that unfolded gradually.

"Racing Like a Pro" because of a last minute phone call from a friend seeking advice and an eleventh hour email from another seeking activity suggestions for him and a 21-year old, I barely made it on time.

Beginning on a "Brainy" note, a "Friend of Mine" met me at Chop Suey Books for Beth Macy's full house reading of "Truevine," about two albino black children stolen - not "Runaway" - from their mother and showcased in Ringling Brothers circus for 14 years until their mother's "Sorrow" led her to rescue them.

It's a wonder the poor things weren't "Afraid of Everyone."

From there, we moved on to a "Secret Meeting" in plain sight at Secco, where the volume was loud, we considered "Terrible Love," and ate well while drinking "All the Wine."

Or at least all the wine two people need while deep in conversation in "City Middle."

It was soon clear that "Baby, We'll Be Fine" eating spaghetti squash pancakes with harissa yogurt, sweet/salty Brussels sprouts with capers and candied pecans, PEI mussels with spicy sausage and a cheese plate of Midnight Moon, Ossau Iraty and prosciutto, matching glass for glass my Camprosso Gavi with "Mr. November's" Lopez de Heredia Temperanillo, although not to the point that we saw "Pink Rabbits."

The hostess was kind enough to compliment my colorful skirt and our server and I discussed the "Graceless" post-election behavior of certain voters. Meanwhile, it wasn't "Hard to Find" reasons to linger discussing the "Gospel" of middle age, personal "Demons" and lessons learned.

Sharing a recent "Apartment Story " from my own life, we could hardly have been "Mistaken for Strangers," although in certain calendars, I show up by initials rather than as "Karen."

While not exactly "Lit Up," we didn't hesitate to pair chocolate mousse with glasses of Cesar Florido Moscatel, pictures of "Heavenfaced" mountains and enough "Conversation 16" to outlast most of the crowd.

Walking out, we saw that karaoke at Metro Grille was just getting cranked up. A smoker on the sidewalk exhorted us to come have a drink, pick a song and belt it out for strangers. I don't need that kind of "Humiliation," friend.

Far better to acknowledge revised standing with full(er) stories, despite living in a "Lemonworld." As to "Patterns of Fairytales," I think you can say that having "Little Faith" has its rewards.

Most importantly of all, no records were harmed ('though several were listened to) in the making of this blog post.