cubby rocks

Got a phone call the other day from my neighbor, cubby. She had been entrusted with a signal whip for re-conditioning, and was seeking some Pecard and some pointers on how to do that. I was happy to provide both.

So today, my doorbell rang while I was standing naked in the kitchen making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I quickly put on shorts and a tee shirt and ran down to answer it. it was cubby. I made her a sandwich, and we sat talking and working the Pecard into our whips. She also suggested that we finallly have our vietnamese restaurant date, so she could show me her favorite Jersey City vietnamese restaurant. This was fine, although I wanted to make it to the gym.

After the gym, I gave her a call, and we met outside the restaurant. It was great. I haven't had good Pho since I left my job at the non-profit I ran on the Lower East Side. Well now I have. And really nice spring rolls to boot.

And after dinner, cubby had to do some shopping, and I needed to stock up on a few items, so we headed to the supermarket. (cubby apparently is a midnight grocery shopper just like me.)

And overall, let me just say that cubby--a dedicated service bottom--provided flawlessservice. Absolutely flawless. Neither intrusive (I'm a Top, not a paraplegic) nor missing a beat any step of the way. Tonight, I was truly well served.

Thanks again, cubby.

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