It’s 7:47 am and she’s calling from the road.
"How was your big dinner?"
"Never-shattering," she says.
"How many people?"
"About 50.
"I was so anxious I had to drink. I got quite drunk."
"How did you get home?"
"I drove."
"How much did you drink?"
"I had a glass of wine to start the evening. And then half a glass over dinner. And then afterwards, a bunch of us stayed behind and the chef brought out seafood crepes. And I had another half a glass of wine."
"How much does it take you to get drunk?"
"One glass. I’m a lightweight."
"Do you want to get together tonight?"
"Do you want to see me?"
"Yes, I want to see you. I adore you."
"OK then. How much do you want to see me?"
"This much."
"OK."
"How about dinner at my place at 7pm?"
"Hmm, I don’t know. I have such a big day. I don’t want to commit."
"So you’ll let me know?"
"OK. I’m pulling in to work. I’ll let you know."
5:30 pm. I’m resting when the phone rings.
I get up ten minutes later and check the caller ID.
It’s her.
I dial her digits.
"You coming?" I ask.
"Honey, I called you right after work. You didn’t answer. So I turned for home. I’m already on the 110."
