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I have permission from S. to write about his work in the vaguest terms. I have to convey the surrealism of last night without giving away too many identifiable details, so if parts of this seem obscure, well, they are.
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Some background: S. works for a guy with a long-reaching political career and connections. (He's a "good guy", by the way -- nothing to do with Texas or Republicans - hee.) This guy entertains a LOT when he's in town and this often involves royalty, heads of state, cabinet members, etc. etc. S. often has to cook under the watchful eye of various international security forces who periodically dip ph-strips into his cooking pots -- pressure, anyone?
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Last night was the first time I went along to help out - I refuse to do table service because I am just too much of a klutz. So I stayed in the beautiful old kitchen helping plate the food, taking photos and washing dishes. I, scullery maid. All the while, I was entertaining some pretty good "Upstairs,Downstairs" fantasies, mostly involving S. and the countertops...but, I digress.
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I was happily watching everything from the sidelines when the employer's right-hand man came in and said the employer wanted to introduce ME to the assembled guests (S. recites the menu prior to the first course, so they'd already met him)

So...in we went to the dining room, where the employer kissed me full on the mouth and held my hand while announcing that S. and I are engaged, etc. etc. In turn, I was holding on to S. for dear life and made the quickest exit I could. The intro. was a huge measure of the high regard S.'s employer has for him, which makes me very proud of S. but didn't make it any less horrifying for me.
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In other news, there was pie. There was leftover pie. And I am eating pie for breakfast. Mmmmm.....pie.....
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thisaway - thataway