Drink a lot of fluids. David rests. I look at my backside every time I pass the mirror in the room.
Go to indoor mall while David sleeps. Beautiful shoes….no tags since prices change daily because of inflation.
David feels up to going out by nighttime. (What a good sport!)
Not looking my best tonight. (look like a train wreck actually—dark circles under my eyes, hair frizzy, so gelled back in ponytail, and wore dress with huge watermark in the back)
Semi-good news: glad that water stain was on the top half of my dress or people would think have bladder problems.
Go to nightclub recommended by Flavio after dinner. Wow! Décor impeccable. White couches around dance floor. Dance floor lit from underneath (looks like suspended in mid-air). Better than Paris nightclub scene—young, good-looking crowd with designer clothes. Thumping American music. Some lambada-style dirty dancing. Hate this! Women look like exotic supermodels. All were like super-glam Amazons. (Someone should explain to me why these women, who tower at 6 feet, chose to wear 4 inch heals to top things off. Not fair to those of us who are 5’2 and three-fourths). Tell David I’m very tired.
Get into taxi with a don’t-mess-with-us-eye-of the-tiger look (when Rocky meets arch- enemy boxer from Russia). Arch-enemy tries to jip us into paying according to rates of their previous currency. (currency had been devalued ten-fold months ago). We win. (yea!)