run out of metaphors

when next i post, i need to report about the dinner i just had tonight in union city indiana. the theme was indochine experience. it was vietnamese food prepared by french candian chefs in a chocolatier's "factory" in a strip mall between the dollar general and the pizza hut.

i was seated at the chef's wife's table with her, her mother, one of her dear friends whom she (the wife) knows through dressage and the dressage partner's husband, a man with limp who served in the air force and army (he spent 95 days in 1995 in egypt) at a four star hotel. i intended to dine alone but when i arrived the hostess/expediter invited me to be a guest at the chef's wife's table.

oh dear. there is much to type about this. i played back to back wilco cd/s on the hour ride back to the loft and rubbed my eyes and wondered what on earth i had just done and how i get myself into these sitches.

what is the what?