Me and my date for the evening:
An excerpt from what swiftly became my (joint) favourite book ever:
Ignatius pondered the proposal for some time, scrutinizing the scar on the old man's nose and belching gassily. At least he would be working. That should satisfy his mother. The work offered little supervision and harassment. Ending his meditations with a clearing of the throat, he belched, 'If I am functioning in the morning, I shall perhaps return. I cannot predict the hour at which I will arrive, but, more or less, I imagine that you can expect to see me.'
'That's fine, son,' the old man said. 'Call me Mr Clyde.'
'I shall,' Ignatius said and licked at a crumb that he had discovered in the corner of his mouth. 'Incidentally, Mr Clyde, I shall be wearing this smock home to prove to my mother that I am employed. You see, she drinks rather heavily, and she needs reassurance that money from my labors will be forthcoming in order that her supply of spirits won't be cut off. My life is rather a grim one. One day I shall perhaps describe it to you in detail. For the moment, however, you must know a thing or two about my valve.'
'Valve?'
'Yes.'
I want you know how much I love this book - I frolicked in naught but a towel with it!
Hope you get the message, and thank you
