It’s something like 30 years that we’ve been together. We’ve known each other since the late summer of 1987. We’ve been a couple for somewhere around 30 years. I could calculate it to a date, but that would probably bore all of us. I’ll put it this way: Our first first date was the weekend Wall Street starring Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen opened. Our second first date was the opening night of Quigley Down Under starring Tom Selleck, Laura San Giacomo, and the late Great Alan Rickman.
I’ll submit that we are each other’s favorite person. We are each other’s first choice when it comes to wanting to spend some time with someone. We are one another’s favorite person to talk to. But this is crazy. Crazy.
We have got to learn to stay in our lanes if we’re required to stay home for much longer. It’s going to get ridiculous. In the past 24 hours I gave, unsolicited, my opinion on how best to handle a professional business matter. And She, wait a moment whilst I clutch my June Cleaver-like pearls, made a suggestion on how I should make Chilaquiles. I was aghast. In the first matter, I am a quasi-retired artist with a degree in art and production. Plus, I’ve spent the past 15 years working freelance by myself. So obviously I’m a qualified corporate executive. In the second matter, I’m Betty Crocker with a full goddamned beard. Pfff, like I need advice on how to make chilaquiles. Pfft.
Pfft.
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