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Day Twenty-three: Elise

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Demeanor: Egg salad-like: hard-boiled, smooth
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "Well, I grew up in an Italian family. So my mom wouldn't approve of this."
Tolerance level of toddler literally screaming three feet away for 40 minutes straight: admirably high
Snapshot:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAA"

"So," I manage to get in while the kid takes a breath, "do you ever want children?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

"Not at this very moment, no."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"

--

Elise is in the process of clawing her way up the ladder of the publishing industry. This is particularly challenging since, as my blog's runaway success conclusively proves, print media is dead. She's the editor of "a line of small food magazines", which I assume means she mostly covers hors d'oeuvres, appetizers, etc.

She didn't ask to feature any of my food photography, probably because she was too starstruck. For the record: I'm available for all forms of selling out.

26 more dates to go.

Today's pasta was
Pollo Loco

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