It strikes me that my apartment mate is neurotic, in a likable sort of way. She'd make an excellent pipe collector. Which, you must understand, is not something which one wishes her to become. This household at present can only fit one of those. Although it would be quite entertaining.
Likewise I should not collect period costume jewelry.
But there is no danger of that.
The pipe club met today. Imagine a whole bunch of people talking about minutiae, comparing ancient leaves, twiddling tampers and cleaners, and flapping their leathery wings during lift-off.
All of them middle-aged men.
There used to be a female member, but she and her husband went back to New Zealand. Most pipe clubs do not have women participants, which is odd. You'd think there would be tonnes.
Maybe women do not join clubs.
Yeah, that's it.
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