The Package

So I got him a present. Generosity begets generosity. I ordered Gus Hansen's Every Hand Revealed from Amazon.

I tracked the package. Fedex showed it as delivered on Monday. But he didn't say anything about it at Tuesday's game. Hmm. Odd. (We did play two tough heads-up minitourneys together. It was lots of fun, but I could barely muster my "C" game because I'm so gaga. Pathetic.)

On Wednesday, I sent a chatty email suggesting he keep an eye out for an incoming package. He said something about not having been home yet, but he'd look for it. A few hours later I got a text message announcing that he'd gotten it and telling me I rocked.

My paranoid brain immediately deduced that he hadn't been home either Monday or Tuesday night.

Or, you know, Fedex lied.
One or the other.

In the meantime I get another email enthusing about the book. And he's decided to play the WSOP series, so that's yet another night in his company every month. He's occasionally using a rather cute nickname for me that he invented).

I proposed we eat and talk before tonight's inaugural WSOP series game. He demurred, "I'd love to but...[insert list of things to do]." Sigh.

There will be tears.