West End Girl- Next to that is Streetside Thai Chicken so we drop in and I’m silently praying we make it by happy hour. We do. We order a bottle of Saki and they deliver the goods in a discreet black ceramic bottle with a lip. Around the neck is a bow tie made out of a paper napkin. The bottle is hot so the napkin saves your precious fingers. Clever Easterners anyway, if they’re not saving face they’re saving fingers. Now the words are flowing like rice wine. It’s Friday night and Streetside Thai Chicken is stuffed full of people and you have to get close in order to hear each other. Every phrase becomes a close encounter. Every casual glance speaks encyclopedic volumes. My lips brush against her hair and almost touch her ear. With every point she makes she touches my arm and smiles. It occurs to me that something unusual is going on here. We share instant rapport. It’s like Uncle Ben’s Converted Rice. It’s takes but a flash to prepare! It’s unexplainable
Posted on: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 06:17:42 +0000
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