rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Dry or dirty?

Last night while we were contemplating take-out Chinese, Terence thought of a funny story.

Way back when, Terence played rugby. He was really into it. I went to cheer him on at the polo fields in GG Park a few times, but the truth is, I didn�t enjoy it. I didn�t like sitting with the wives and girlfriends because they were all so annoying, so I would sit off by myself, sometimes reading during the boring parts, most times cringing when he got tackled.

Not my shining moment.

Terence had a funny routine when he would come home. He�d run a hot bath, dial in the Giants game on KNBR, get in the tub with a beer and a cheap cigar and sit there, soaking and smoking and relaxing. I wish I�d taken a picture because it was hysterical.

Anyway, knowing his habits, I would often absent myself post-games to run errands or hang out with friends. I love him to pieces, but he stank to high heaven and those cigars weren�t doing him any favors.

Again, not my shining moment, part deux.

One time, he came home from a game with a fellow rugby player. I think he was going to give the guy a lift back to the city.

So Terence says to him, �I�m going to jump in the shower. You can rummage around the fridge if you�re hungry. We don�t have any beer, but there�s probably some gin or vodka in the freezer if you want to make a cocktail. Help yourself.�

So Terence gets in the shower. Five minutes into it, the shower curtain is torn aside, and a martini is thrust into his hand.

�Here you go,� says his rugby friend.

To which Terence replied, �What? No olive?�

�dramatic pause�

�Heathen.�

9:20 a.m. - 2004-05-28

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