Tea yesterday in Chihuly Lounge of Ritz-Carlton, made most pleasantly gratis by J. Selection of dainties delightful, especially the sandwiches, in particular the tomato and tuna and the cucumber. W partook most liberally of the molten chocolate fountain, and G sank into orgasm with the pralines and W's spontaneous gift of white polo. I had egg in chilli puree, which was surprising and marvellous. And we perfected glamorous looks of easy ecstasy as we popped roe between tongue and hard palate. J and I ravaged the jam jars and we discovered Onion and Sherry did not go with fresh scones, nor anything else least of all itself. There were other seductions to which we gave ourselves, like the clotted cream, cakes, and some mousse-like creations, all "fatally" (G's very word) sweet. And the waitresses were politely unobtrusive (though considering the price they'd better be!). I spotted a triple-gold Tiffany band on the manicured digit of one, as she was pouring, through a silver strainer, the singularly amber Earl Gray into our Wedgwood ware.
Also later, in J's vehicle, the secrets of Faber, Labrador, and Maxwell, where we observed various examples of humanity disporting themselves in ways amusing to see.
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