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Sunday, September 22, 2002

Time to kill. Time to

Time to kill. Time to kill. I wasn't sure how long the wedding thing was going to be and Greg was planning on skating as soon as humanly possible, so I thought I'd just swagger into a local waterin' hole and slide up to the bar for some refreshment in the interim. I met Kim at Maggiano's for a cocktail before going over to Christopher's for live jazz and fabulous wine. Greg called about 9:00 and managed to whimper in his best painful voice that they were on their third course of seven and it didn't look good for an early departure. What happened ever to hors d'oeuvres at a reception? Anyhoo, we stayed until the sax and song were no more and they were sweeping up the place before hitting Baker St. Pub for martinis and further waiting. Greg finally calls and we make for downtown at breakneck speed. One drink at the Cotton Exchange led us to the Twelve Spot where we finished off the night. I think I sang a lot on the way home. I'm glad he's feeling better.
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