<div class="floatleft">(http://i63.tinypic.com/2eqf9j4.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>Peter Warcaof</strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>CGDA Benefactor</strong><br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾</div></div></div><br/>I nod, hearing about the nighttime logistics.<strong>“We’ve all been there.  Press of business, some crisis—barely time to get dressed and get transportation.  I can only imagine that she continued in her go-getter demeanor.  Did she ever wind down?”</strong><br/><br/>My drink arrives and I fiddle with the farm crop deposited in the glass.<strong>“No doubt we’ll hear from her.  A text or . . . what is it again?  An email or perhaps a phone call.  Favor the phone, but so be it.”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“And Fifth Avenue.  Yes.  I’ve heard of that.  May have gotten close, but if we need the diamond district, that’s where I can walk you around blindfolded.  47th Street—that area.  <em>Hee-hee!</em>  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not proposing.  That’s where Ari and I have worked on a number of projects.  Now Ari, he could have been a taxi driver—he’s Mr. Google Maps.”</strong>I drink down a good draft of the drink.<strong>“Got that right too I think.  Google?”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“Anyways, I’ll leave the wardrobe to you.  But, I say why not ruffle some feathers, rather than smooth them?  We don’t even have to endure days of scowls.  We’ll be off to Africa.  That’s all set if I’m not mistaken.”</strong>I nod at Jaclyn, making sure that we don’t have to involve the club’s concierge.<br/>