That night, we ate like gods. The dress ordered the duck fat potatoes. The dress demanded the chocolate soufflé at 10:47 PM, long after dessert was “closed.” The dress paid—well, I paid, but the dress took the credit, waving a black card like a tiny surrender flag.
But my dress had other plans.
Let me explain.
“I frivolous dress order the meal—” is not a broken sentence. It is a confession. -I frivolous dress order the meal-
So yes: I frivolous dress order the meal. That night, we ate like gods
“I think we’re doing the ordering tonight,” the waiter smiled. Not at me. At the dress. but the dress took the credit
Wear something foolish tonight. Let the sleeves decide. And when the waiter asks who’s having the crème brûlée, let the hemline answer.