Saturday night 8 PM

Saturday night is like monday morning. It's a key moment in Mr Philips' week, Mr Philips being here the common thirty-something bloke whose life is split into two parts: job and hobbies.
Last saturday Mr Philips called me and asked me if I would join him and his long-term partner
for dinner. I wanted to say no, and so I said yes. I brought myself and a bottle of wine to their flat and the evening started.

A cheerful conversation by the fire, a glass of white wine and a couple of gammon toasts worked as appetizers. Even if I was somehow absorbed into the talking, drinking and masticating, I couldn't help peeping around, and realized how rational and flawless was Mr and Mrs Philip's conduct of their lives. A new TV set had replaced the old one, half a dozen of new travel guides testified of their recent travels and I showed my sincere interest by asking this very stupid question: "I see you've got two guides of Guatemala. Does it mean you've been there twice?"

At the dinner table we talked about American writers and cineasts, and agreed to say some were better than others. Then they mentionned their plan to leave Paris and move to Aix-en-Provence, which I found a good idea and so did they. They offered me to take their flat, I asked them how much was the rent, they said 800 euros and we swiftly moved on to another subject.

"What is it like to have a nervous breakdown?" Mrs Philips asked, while pouring champagne in my glass. "I couldn't say", I answered. "I've merely started it. But your cooking is delightful." She definitely wanted to cheer me up and told me that art required patience, and that I was right to keep trying. Mr Philips thought the same and brought me a couple of books to take home. "This one is particulary good", he said. "It's about a guy who starves to death and describes his agony."

Then they put some music on and started to dance. "Colombiana", Mr Philips said, risking a few steps of cha cha cha, "I love to say Colombiana." They were both drunk and probably thought "We may at last have sex tonight". Saturday night was coming to an end. I took my leave and promised I would call during the week.