Thought I'd drift by and see what was afoot, since I find myself in search of new thrills. I'm a London-based writer, although you'd probably find this a little more interesting than my current project.
How are you all? Mind if I pull up a chair?
My dear young lady, I must confess that there's chance that I might have followed the curve of your ankle to get here, but it is most certainly a pleasure to see you again.
My writing? Pah - just a little something I do between cocktails. I'm finishing up a little thing this weekend that my publisher is apparently rather keen to see, and then I can get back to the book I'd prefer to be writing! Ah, the measures to which we poor fools must resort in order to keep the champagne flowing...
Tell me about it.
Does life consist of the things we do between cocktails or is it what goes on as we are drinking cocktails?
When I think about those long, luxurious, crystalline evenings around the table with good friends and good conversation, they are so divine compared to this eternity spent whiling away the hours to be able to afford the evenings.
I can easily recall the details of libatious (?) evenings from years ago, the smell of stale cigarette smoke and cocktails, the laughter -- and can hardly even remember the project that was immensely important to someone last Friday.
Hmm. Good evening.