“Cigars and the city,” I thought as I walked my dog, Sterling, after a night of dinner and the opera. I still wore my evening dress, wrap and stilettos because, as Sterling dictates, so go the walks. I noticed a gentleman in a tuxedo smoking a cigar outside a brownstone party half a block away. The street was shining from an earlier rain shower.
Suddenly, Sterling spotted a cat at the same time a cab was rounding the corner. Sterling broke loose and bolted straight for the cab. The brownstone gentleman leaped onto the street, stopped the cab, and saved little Sterling’s life.
He gave me his card. I sent him a thank-you note and a box of Churchill cigars.
That was six months ago. Tomorrow we announce our engagement.
Suddenly, Sterling spotted a cat at the same time a cab was rounding the corner. Sterling broke loose and bolted straight for the cab. The brownstone gentleman leaped onto the street, stopped the cab, and saved little Sterling’s life.
He gave me his card. I sent him a thank-you note and a box of Churchill cigars.
That was six months ago. Tomorrow we announce our engagement.
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