Our first order of business is to drop in on one of my roommate's best friends and his partner. I had slept with the partner when he stayed with us on a job related trip to San Francisco. As it was the 1980's, this situation was not as awkward as one might think. Rumor was, that in the past, my roommate had also slept with him, however not with his best friend.
We pulled up to their home, a turn of the century mansion on a corner lot. The large' immaculate green lawn surrounding the house sloped gently to the street. In the side yard a large fountain held court. The elegant and stately appearance of their home was not confined to the exterior. Inside, on either side of the entry, were twin parlors. Each held a massive piano in scale with the generous proportions of the two rooms. The wood floors were layered with oriental rugs. In the rear of the house, adjacent to the kitchen, was a conservatory. Used as a media room, it's ceiling was composed of stained glass panels edging the leaded opaque glass making up it's center.
Upon meeting the friend, he immediately insisted we stand back to back as there had been an ongoing, long distance conversation regarding which if the two of us was, well, shorter. This started because I was able to fit perfectly into a pair of overalls he had forgotten and left behind in our San Francisco flat prior to my residence there. We called it a draw. I did not return the overalls.
We had only a short time to spend with then as they were boarding a flight to Mexico City for their annual holiday visit there in just a couple of hours. In a celebratory mood, they opened a bottle of champagne. It was 10 o'clock in the morning. He and my roommate chatted and giggled together like 15 year old girls. The giggling continued as we drove them to the airport. Dropping them off, after declining the offer of yet more alcohol, we returned to Ludlow and got some much needed rest.