When Brianne and I talk about the time we've spent together since we met at Randolph, we both encounter the same paradox -- it feels like no time at all and forever all at once! I'm not sure if the swelling romantic sentiment tinged with our trademark sarcasm really makes it in print, but just go with it.
The London Showboat was a wonderful soiree. Brianne looked exquisite as always, and I just did my damnedest to look presentable next to her. It used to bemuse me to see sitcoms which paired average shmoes with stunning wives (Everybody Loves Raymond, According to Jim, etc.), but I have readily accepted that I am living that sitcom every day! Average Shmoes of the world unite!
We had a great laugh at the pan-flute music that wafted along the dining deck. Classics of Rod Stewart and Whitney Houston as performed by Zamfir . . . unparalleled auditory experience. B made it very clear that she hats pan-flutes, as well as regular flutes, recorders, pretty much any instrument you blow into, as she described it. Luckily the flutes were replaced by piano later on.
The meal was delicious, the wine was excellent, and the cabaret singer was quite entertaining. She didn't take herself too seriously, so any schmaltz had a self-awareness about it which made it okay. We tore up the dance floor with the rest of the passengers, took a little break and breather topside to see Tower Bridge, then made our way back to the now-empty dance floor to put our seal on the evening. A moonlit stroll topped it all off.
As you wish.
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