“Your order, sir?”I started from my reverie. “Slicha.” I picked up the menu. “Fresh fruit, please. And a lime cordial.”“Of course.” A ...ause. “Sir, clothing in the restaurant is usually expected to be a little more ... formal.”I looked down and flushed. I was wearing the same jeans I had put on in Thorncliff.“I’m very sorry. I hadn’t realised.”“It’s alright.” The waitress grinned, looked sideways at the mostly deserted restaurant, and lowered her voice. “I’ll make an exception today.”“Thank. I pulledher off to the side and we got in an argument, I demanded the receiptfor the car keys which she wouldn?t give me and told her that there wasno way I would drive home with her she said fine and ran out of the roombut between the high heels and the long heavy dress I was unable tocatch up to her or find her, I thought maybe she had gone to the ladiesroom so I just sat and waited, the hall started clearing and I asked afew friends for a ride they all just laughed and left finally I had. More

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