Tomorrow is Alpha’s birthday. We have a date. We will go eat at the Wrenkh restaurant, the fine vegetarian restaurant that was closed when we tried to visit it with Pat on his fictional visit to Vienna.

The Wrenkh has classy waiters and waitresses, young and attractive and stylish and competent. The food is excellent. I am looking forward to going there and engaging in stimulating conversation with my wife.

I am also craving red meat.

A big, fat juicy aromatic grilled oversized gigantic hamburger on toasted sesame buns, dripping grease and cholesterol and ten different condiments down the front of my suit. Slices of tomato and avocado sliding out the sides when I bite in. Maybe some chili and fresh onions in there somewhere.