LJ,
For dessert I've arranged something special. At a power breakfast as the '21' Club this morning with Craig McDermott, Alex Baxter and Charles Kennedy, I stole a urinal cake from the men's room when the attendant wasn't looking. At home I covered it with a cheap chocolate syrup, froze it, then placed it in an empty Godiva box, tying a silk bow around it, and now, in Luke, when I excuse myself to the rest room, I make my way instead to the kitchen, after I've stopped at the coatcheck to retrieve the package, and I ask our waiter to present this to the table "in the box" and to tell the Jezo seated there that Mr. Patty called up earlier to order this especially for him. I even tell the waiter, while opening the box, to put a flower on it, whatever, hand him a fifty. He brings it over once a suitable amount of time has elapsed, after our plates have been removed, and I'm impressed by what a big deal he makes over it; he's even placed a silver dome over the box and Jezo coos with delight when he lifts is off, saying "Voi-ra," and Jezo makes a move for the spoon the waiter has laid next to his water glass (that I make sure is empty) and, turning to me, Jezo says "Patty, thats so sweet," and I nod to the waiter, smiling, and wave him away when he tries to place a spoon on my side of the table.
"Aren't you haveing any?" Jezo asks, concerned. He hovers over the chocolate-dipped urinal cake anxiously, poised. "I adore Godiva"
"I'm not hungry," I say. "Dinner was...filling."
Jezo leans down, smelling the brown oval, and, cathcing a scent of something (probably disinfectant), asks me, no dismayed, "Are you...sure?"
"No, darling," I say. "I want you to eat it. There's not a lot there."
He takes the first bite, chewing dutifully, immediately and obviously disgusted, then swallows. Jezo shudders, then makes a grimace but tries to smile as he takes another tenative bite...