It would have been much easier to blame this hideous stain on a table companion, but I believe in Karma. As hideous as this is, it is completely my fault. MY French Bean with Foie Gras slipped off the serving spoon at La Petite Maison in London and landed on the table cloth at La Petite Maison in London. I now fully understand the need to carry a Tide Bleach Pen. Either that or master the classic table cloth trick. Or going back to the Karma Thing, do not order anything with Foie Gras in it.
Three verifiable things about me. One. I am an only child. The concept of sharing, therefore, is foreign to me. Two. I am a Virgo. The sign regarded as a perfectionist. Three. My mother raised me to be meticulously clean; compulsively tidy. According to my mother, "You have taken this clean thing way too far." I disagree. Apologies to my mother.
Nature or nurture? Who knows? Who cares? I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Nor would I label myself a Cleanaholic. Or a Germaphobe. My world though, is definitely a unique place. One where doors open magically. Hotel mattresses are pristine. And estheticians never double dip.
I live in this world without a bubble or a honeycomb mask. About 15 years ago I got tired of catching the flu du jour and became ever more so hygienically vigilant -- perhaps obsessively so.
No comments:
Post a Comment