Atlanta's weather extremes -- heat that would make a Bedouin wilt, rain that would give residents of Mumbai pause -- came together this week, then canceled each other out, producing a few days of climatic bliss.
Thursday night was one of those brief periods of perfection; after work, I wound up drinking champagne with my two closest friends on the patio of my favorite restaurant, enjoying the perfect weather, and getting introduced to an attractive young lady. She was one of those rare people who's immediately visibly intelligent (she was reading "Cloud Atlas"), blessed with a good sense of humor (though since we were embarking on an ill-advised attempt to smoke cigars -- don't ask -- it wasn't hard to find something funny), and again, attractive (pretty eyes, dancer's physique). Yeah, I know several intelligent/funny/attractive women, but they're all friends and co-workers -- in my experience they don't exist outside of that little geodisic dome.
I was struck dumb by meeting someone who's pretty close to my ideal woman, but managed to stammer out some approximation of witty conversation, my head swimming, until finally she said she had to leave -- her fiancé was picking her up. Whoops. The hell with it -- where's the monastery?