XXXVIII: A Reasonable Defence

I once used this very line of defence with John:

Though he mounted no counter argument, I still had the distinct feeling of somehow having lost the case . . .


XXXVII: El Drisco

We had a mini holiday by staying a night at the Hotel Drisco in Pacific Heights. Specifically, Suite 106, which looks something like this:

A "California" king, plenty of room . . .

And this:

With views of this:

She went out to have a fancy dinner and watch this man sing and dance around:

This Roger Clyne fellow claims to be a mediator
in peace talks of some kind? Not sure how
jumping around helps his cause . . .

. . . Leaving us to amuse ourselves. John spent most of the time in a strange state of paranoia . . .

No, John, I will not hold your hand.

There were a few magazines in the room, but they were all about how proud the locals are their big bridge hasn't fallen down in the 75 years since they built it or something. I'm not exactly sure because I only looked at the pictures. (Meanwhile, John kept looking up like he thought there were spiders on the ceiling. He hates spiders. There weren't any. I'll bring some next time, just for fun.)

She went out without us again the next day, shopping and whatnot. And then packed us up for our ride back in the Town Car . . .

This is how we roll.