But if I did, I'd be able to show you a tall blonde with a newly acquired BS.
Who was suddenly beseiged by papparazzi.
Swept off to dinner by a mysterious man with a German accent.
Who insisted on the truffled cheese fries to start, along with several other deadly sins.
And aided and abetted by two attractive accomplices,
led us straight through the rich entrees to much not needed desserts.
Where I fought not to eat any of the toffee ice cream or the chocolate cakes, but lost the battle.
There was talk of accompanying them back to "their place" for several botles of champagne.
But here the graduate and myself begged off and drove home to walk the dog and fall into deep sleep.
Only to awake the following morning and wonder if it was all but a dream.
If I had a minute to spare this is just how I would tell the story.
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