I eventually made it to New York City and partook of a fine evening with the tycoon and the movie producer. At one point I found myself explaining my recent unseemly conduct. I plead my case, I had a reason, albeit flimsy, why I was so keen to attend that Palm Beach Thanksgiving party. I explained that I was curious to see a certain someone who shall remain nameless. I just had to see for myself. Crucial statistics for my Large Animal Research Station. I trust my motives were understood and I was pardoned.

Sure enough I had gathered some raw figures for crunching, the coltran of data. I truly was the last guest to leave. I am a person of extremes. If I show up at all I tend to overstay my welcome. In truth, I did not want to exit the magnificent pile by the sea. Secretly, I was hoping to be offered a wing. I was there adorned in my orange shawl from Walgreens. I’ll bet nobody else that night sported anything from Walgreens. Not even their cosmetics. I was a parrot fish out of water on some deeply fundamental levels. Did anyone notice my all wrong thing, I think probably.

But all this was mere foreplay as it neatly trickled into the richly random resurrection of Rachel.

Regarding the word she uttered I had to ask her as I drew a blank, but it was, enchante Which was almost right, but not. Because she never told me her name. There was nothing yet to be enchante about, as there’d been no introduction. Hence the drawn out awkward silence, like a couple of gun slingers on a dusty noontime western Main Street.

A full day later, when we reviewed this unplanned pregnant meeting, Rachel admitted she didn’t immediately reveal her name because she was considering her options. It was obvious to her I didn’t recognize her, but she also knew, because of her confoundingly pronounced lisp that if she said anything at all the jig would be up. Sounds provoke memories sharper than any Madeleine, matter of time before I discovered her true identity. Sure enough, when she said, enchante my long lost cohort came rippling into focus right in front of my eyes, like a magic trick.

Rachel is a person I have actively ducked for the past 14 years. Why, because Rachel is the third rail. What kind of trouble did Rachel stir up, two words: Steve Martin. Need I say more?

Ergo, as to Rachel, I shall proceed with a short leash.

The moral of the story is always take the better offer! Ditch your pals and grab at the shiny stuff. You’ll have better memories, only piquant regrets, and fewer people to manage in your life. Kidding!

Honestly, I’m thrilled to have Rachel back in the fold. She is fabulous company. Picture the Artful Dodger all grown up and with some dosh, that’s Rachel. Irresistible!