Saturday was my dad's 70th, and I think it was my mum who decided we should go to the Top of the Hub at the Prudential Building. For the uniformed, the restaurant is a posh and therefore stuffy Boston institution, full of a mixture of tourists, businessmen and special occasion celebrations.
Sat behind me was a 50-something man, with an Eastern European (via Las Vegas) hooker. How entertaining.
She fed the guy food and asked the most mundane of questions in her whorish Zsa Zsa Gabor cadence. Fantastic!
Meanwhile she would call the manager over for an extra flirt, "ooh you're so strong, I bet you're a Taurus aren't you?"
And finally, she was annoying to the wait staff with repeated requests such as "I need more lemons!", "This pork tastes like veal".
I understand the testosterone desire of the male, but why does he have to take her for dinner as well? Who cares, it made for an added note of celebration as my dad turned 70.