This past weekend really began with meeting Monique, a truly special girl who proved that you don’t have to be pretty to be lovely. I came home that afternoon to find my crazy bitch housemate, Terry doing his very best Desperate Housewife imitation in the front yard.


As it was his last weekend visiting Miami before he opens the house in Rhode Island, I took him to The Victor where I encountered THAT GLASSWARE again. And since it was obvious that I can not live without them, I set about a plan. We talked about renting one of those big air cushions that is so popular in NYC for people threatening to jump out a window. Strategically placed, it seemed possible that I could leap off the roof of the hotel with two in my hand, but impractical if I conceded the fact that I would have to jump four times for a set of eight.

Never subdued in plotting, I have embarked on a plan to sweet-talk Vince, the gracious General Manager of The Victor. I’ve already found out that he was the one who ordered them, which means that not only does he have good taste but the key to the china cabinet. The charm will be turned on heavily this week, a sort of Johnstown Flood of charm, and if I can’t dance like Salome’ well enough I will get someone who can. I will stop at nothing, of that you can be sure.