Everyone loved The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, and would all love to hang out with Precious. There was general hilarity.
Afterwards, the other writing group person and I were the only two who were up for dinner, so we did that. We had a new waiter. Orlando came by and flirted some; I wasn't particularly responsive. I managed a riposte that shut him down some -- he's been flirting with the Professora, and tonight she had a date afterwards. Ooo. The date is a veternarian; Orlando is a mere waiter. "A married waiter," I commented.
Bzzooooop. This is the sound of one man's game going dooooooown.
There was happy gossip. Kids changing clothes 10 times a morning, silly men, complex relationships, writing. I imitated Darkside's manner with strangers very very cunningly and accurately: I got the deadpan face, the calm voice, the uprightness, and even the finger thing he sometimes does. The other writing group chick was cracking up. "The joke around the household is that they have to make special sticks for him," I added... I got to rehash the entire delightful situation from several years ago that involved Adam and V.: sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander. Poor gander didn't take very well at all to being nearly cuckolded by Mr. Shallow, no...
We finally found the right constructive criticism for the former nurse who used to come to the writing group. She wrote long and rambling pieces that could definitely be improved, and we figured out what it was that would have done that: split each of the ideas of the piece off into separate little stories. If only we'd thought of this while she was still coming to the writing group regularly...
She dropped me off near the bus stop in a close parking lot (since there is no real place to pull in by the bus stop). I ran and caught the Red Line, and was home before eleven.