M and the path to loser
Someone was incessantly ringing my doorbell yesterday while I was trying to work and I called from the terrace – “Who is it?” and someone answered, “George!” and so I thought it was the guy who originally did my landscaping and said, Ok, be down in a minute. But it was M – that old chestnut – the prodigal son returns, no wiser I might add.
We chatted on the porch a little bit and most of what he had to say I already knew from the Turkish grapevine, and it seemed most of what I had to say he already knew (about T).
He is a lover of drama, no make that an aficionado of drama, maybe even a virtuoso, when he described Barcelona – I just told him he needs to get a life.