<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/132c/qanv0vlare944wbzg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Jaclyn Rosendahl</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Entrepreneur<br/><em>About Jaclyn</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=289408.msg14241614#msg14241614)<br/> ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ </span></span></div></div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… Peter complements my Jacquemus jumpsuit …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “Why thank you Peter. Packs easily and is suitable for a number of different types of occasions and is cool to boot.”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… the bartender serves the S. Pellegrino which in the flute looks like maybe a white sparkling wine … Peter goes on about his afternoon … asks about a table or eating at the bar … and a bottle of wine? …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “Please, no wine for me, maybe when we get to Africa after I feel more rested. I’d make a horrid world traveler but this alcohol free jet lag beats the alternative. The bar’s fine.”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… sit next to Peter and introduce myself to the bartender, a Mr. Alotaibi … his English is impeccable … I ask about that and he says the schools here all insist on English and one other language because they are all agreed on tourism so need to be able to speak to those from elsewhere … I ask about his other language … he grins …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “<abbr title="I try to speak Japanese.">Watashi wa nihongo o hanasou to shimasu.</abbr>”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “<abbr title="Good evening, sir. I speak very little Japanese.">Konbanwa sensei. Watashi wa nihongo ga hotondo hanasemasen.</abbr> I’m glad you speak English.”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… his smile says I didn’t go all incomprehensible … he offers menus and I decline …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “Please order for me, Mr. Alotaibi. Small portions that you believe your mother or sister might enjoy. A small appetizer such as a spread over bread or crackers, a salad, a light meat entrée, and maybe a dessert. All will be well if I have room for the dessert. Spicy is fine, but please don’t challenge my palate with fire.”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… he nods and examines the menu … I turn slightly toward Peter …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">  “What are you having, Peter? Similar but with Peter sized portions instead of my little bird food?”</span></span><br/>