.12.

"Oh, the bill," says I.

Adam slid it over to his section of the table and opened it, revealing six small, individually wrapped Andes mints.

Now you, dear reader, have no doubt seen an Andes mint. No doubt you have also eaten one. I shall not take the time, then, to describe to you what one looks or tastes like. But I will remind you of something said many a time and oft forgot: Adam Shatarsky does not always think before he speaks.

But I will add this: I wouldn't have it any other way, because sometimes it is the funniest stuff you will ever hear.

The small black pad folded open revealing the six chocolate mints sitting neatly on our quaint little bill. Adam's eyes grew wide, and in the biggest, most excitable, overblown version of his dialect he blurted out:

"Fannie's your aunt, Bob's your uncle! We've got Chocolates!"

I lost it. All of it. Whatever it was, was lost. I shall probably never get it back.

The bill was paid, the goodbyes were said, the hugs were given. The ladies headed off in their direction, and we in ours.

I breathed a great sigh of relief. For me, the game was over.

For Adam... well... let me just put it this way...

To this day, and every day, he still receives emails from the lovely Christine.