This presents a problem: what am I going to do?
In the past it would have so easy. At least one full day of snacking, dozing, and nibbling.
Dinner at a restaurant, and perhaps even a trip out of town.
But I do not have anyone with whom to do this now.
One of my friends will be heading down to Monterrey with his new blonde squeezieboo, where the two of them will be doing exactly that.
Snacking, dozing, nibbling, and eating at restaurants.
In between visiting an aquarium to look at fish.
And spending all day out in the sun.
It sounds utterly wonderful.
I hope they have a good time.
I shall probably look for something new to eat in Chinatown for lunch, then wander down to the office smoking my pipe, to browse the internet till evening, reading and drinking tea.
There are no flowers in my life, and there is nothing to smell.
If I were a raccoon, it would be quite different. Yes, raccoons also smoke pipes and drink tea. Don't argue. They do. It's a fact.
Then at night they head over to the dead end street on Russian Hill, where they sit on the wall overlooking the bay, the lights of the city spread out below them, and gaze out at the lovely view, while holding furry paws.
Or perhaps having a delicious fish dinner.
The great advantage of being covered with fur is sheer huggability. That, of course, is why everyone loves raccoons. Even when they reek of pipe-tobacco. As is often the case.
"Oh, that's just the way animals smell, don't mind that!"
Pet, pet, pet. Pet, pet, pet.
"And just look at those soulful eyes, so very very loveable!"
Even more pet, pet, pet.
Pet, pet, pet.
Nobody has ever said that I looked loveable while I smoked my pipe in a thoughtful manner or cleverly lifted a forkful of fish to my mouth.
I do think I'm actually quite presentable at those times.
Exactly the type of person you'd want to be with.
But unfortunately I lack fur and a fuzzy tail.
As you know, that detracts immensely.
Non-furry pipe-smokers just aren't very popular. We rarely figure in illustrated children's books, Narnia, or animated films, despite my soulful eyes.
Betcha my friend and his blonde companion will look at whatever is housed at the aquarium in Monterrey and think "I wonder how it tastes". A veritable smorgasbord of fabulous fresh seafood options. Just crack the tank.
Shark steak. Orange Roughy Parmesan. Crispy Fried Fish Sandwich.
Calamares Fritos. Sand Dabs Alfredo. Étouffée.
Ragoût de fruits de mer.
The closest I'll come to that is observing the wriggling fishy things, fresh shrimp, and live lobsters in tanks at stores along Stockton Street.
Then heading over to office to read all about food online.
Oysters Rockefeller, Mussels a la Mariniere.
Fried squidlibits with zesty dip.
Crevettes en rémoulade.
A pity I can't smoke my pipe indoors anymore.
One has to go outside to light up nowadays.
Evening winds are always cold downtown.
That's why fur would come in handy.
And, conceivably, inspire hugs.
"Just look at those soulful eyes! He clearly wants some seafood!"
Pet, pet, pet.
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