by Tomorrow's Man
September 26, 2005, 6:20PM:
Off to my date with Kari Rueslåtten. Who would have thought that a dare in the dim dawn snowfall outside a Reykjavik nightclub three years ago would result in this quick jaunt to Chicago to make poutine in a hotel room? Not bloody likely me, 'tis true, but, true 'tis.
It just goes to prove that one's knowledge of Oslo can come in handy when one has none but fakes it well while dancing the Dance of the Fifth Veil in the cool early-morning precipitation of silver Icelandic snow.
Check the suitcase: Ore-Ida french fries, packed in ice; a fresh pound of white cheese curds; and a small Tupperware tub o' turkey gravy mix, pre-prepared, with my special secret ingredient (Pickapeppa Jamaican pepper sauce, three dashes).
Pants? Who needs 'em - we're cooking by the whirlpool bath; apparently, her tour manager's set up a hibachi, and emptied the bar on the bed.