Served a great couple tonight. They just got out of choir practice, but swear to me that they are far from ecclesiastical. "We're choir sluts. We're only there to sing." By day, they work for Direct Energy -- the rest of their time is devoted to music. Craig and Susan. Susan sings madrigals and Craig is also a gourmet chef hired to go to people's houses and cook for them. They've invited me over for dinner on a Sunday night :) But you know what? I can't think of food right now -- thought those words would never be uttered from my lips? Hah. On my walk home, I inhaled eight chicken wings, which had been fried, refried and tossed with butter and cajun spices. By my last wing, my heart started to hurt and my throat and tongue were coated in grease. A nasty yet delicious feeling. Who'd have thought that butter on chicken wings could be so tasty...