On my own, My Guy in Vegas, just arrived home from dropping off my niece back at home (we watched Ratatouille in the theatre).
Got home, fed Manky Cat and decided I didn't want to cook, so I went to our favourite haunt, solo, and tucked into the outside bar for a late meal.
Tonight's dinner, though outside, was very different from last night's. It was hot yes, but I was relaxed, in a tank top, and loving my surroundings.
Here was my moment:
The Steak Diane arrived and it's first waft was divine - I couldn't wait to get into it. I had a cold glass of chardonnay, a side of veg, Weezer's Island in the Sun was booming and I was watching a surfing video.
That was it. It was a little slice of perfection.
And I was flirted with 6 separate times! Does an old body good to know she can still work it even when she's not...
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5 comments:
I'm one of those weirdos that loves occasionally eating alone- you can just sit and sip and eat, and not talk.
I saw your website- you're a sexy little minx and you know it. Boys would be stupid to not at least TRY to mack on you.
;)
Hey, can I schedule a regular session with you every Sunday afternoon to boost my ego? I'm going to take about five minutes right now to wonder what would have happened had you and I met in person when we were single and on the man-hunt...let's also put us in Manhattan. Yes, this is good stuff...be right back.
Was this the Falcon House? or Key Lime? or what?
You're the cat's pajamas, Lol.
-cK
The Falcon, natch. And thanks pal...you know I think you're the puppy's nightie.
I can imagine few things scarier than eating alone. Kudos to you!
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