a.k.a Petitebete. Office drone by day, amateur closeted erotica writer by night (hard to write in a closet let me tell you). Dabbler, dilettante, self-deprecator. Musings, rants, social commentary and the occasional flash of fictional semi-brilliance when the Muse smacks me upside the head. Under-promising and over-delivering since 1989. Canadian, in case the backdrop wasn't clear indication enough.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Opportunity Comes Knocking?
The Russian asked me out to lunch today. Just he and I. Seems he forgot his lunch at home. He never forgets his lunch at home.
I am still kicking myself for having turned him down.
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