Confessional

The Tutor:  My experience with NYC is not that expansive I’m afraid – mostly visits in an employment capacity to that architectural eyesore on the corner of First and East 42nd.  Leslie, the dear woman, has always been my chaperon whenever the two of us find ourselves concurrently in NYC, and by extension, Turtle Bay.  It was she who introduced me to the night life and the various venues where one is less, or more, likely to survive the evening’s festivities.  We Canadians are a frightfully cautious lot and Leslie, braving as she does the hurricanes, sinkholes and murder rate in New Orleans – her home port – and as an Honourary Masshole, is just the ticket.  And she is wicked Ginger arm candy.

My first date with the lovely and talented VD, coincidentally also in NYC, initially transpired much as any date might.  Though it was not really a date, we were, and remain, more ‘Partners in Crime’ than anything else.  At the restaurant, she proceeded to order everything on the menu - I was paying you see.  A tremendous amount of food, and wine arrived at our table.  I was expecting an equine feed bag to arrive as well, at some point.  She consumed all of the food and wine – including half the free bread sticks!  This five-foot-nothing Asian woman-child consumed more at that one sitting than I normally consume in three days!  I could not help but remark, “Goodness, Dr. M., do you eat like this at home?”  To which she responded, between mouthfuls, “No, but then they don’t expect to fuck me after dinner”.

I mean, how could you not just love to bits a woman like that?

She left with her bodyguard in Daddy’s Limo.  I took the subway."

Me:  "That's not how I remember it."

The Tutor:  "How so?"

Me:  "You stuck me with the bill."

The Tutor:  "Right, I remember that now."