Thanks to Alice and Rashid for a delightful evening, which finally changed the tone of an unrelentingly awful week. The SAQ strike mercifully over, we arrived with several litres of good wine, which we drank with an appreciation that bordered on rapture. To complement the wine, our hosts served a delicious Chinese fondue, followed by an assortment of chocolates brimming with raspberry, orange, and praline ganaches. Sated—nay, engorged—we retired to the living room where we lounged and smoked and told silly, wine-fuelled stories, while Rashid’s excellent mix CDs spun without end.
I laughed harder tonight than I have in a long time, the kind of laughter that threatens to bring tears to your eyes and wine through your nose and which lasts so long you forget what made you laugh in the first place. You laugh even though you’re tired and edgy and full of doubt; you laugh until everything else falls away and there’s nothing but laughing and the people you’re laughing with. And when you come home you know that it was, despite everything, a perfect evening, and you decide you will write about it before you go to bed.