MiracleSex

Provoca­tive title, espe­cial­ly for this weblog… but, it doesn’t have any­thing remote­ly to do with what you may be imag­in­ing.

With Pres­ley busy study­ing for her final exams, I’m on my own for din­ner. What to do? Grab the Power­book, and head for the Mir­a­cle, of course. Free wi-fi. Nice wait­ress. Beer. This is all the Mod­ern Urban Male needs.

Why the sil­ly entry title, then, you ask? Well, I’m get­ting to that.

I sit down, turn on my Power­book, and order my Grilled Chick­en Sal­ad (with the most deli­cious lime-cilantro dress­ing), a pint of Bass. When the wait­ress leaves, i look down, and my com­put­er is ask­ing me if I want to join the Wire­less net­work “Mir­a­cle­Sex”.

Need­less to say, if I had been tak­ing a pull on my Bass, I would have spit it out onto the table­top.

Then I real­ized, I was sit­ting in the Mir­a­cle of Sci­ence, and was two doors down from Mid­dle­sex, a new lounge opened up by the same own­ers. They share the same wi-fi con­nec­tion, so why not call it “Mir­a­cle­Sex”?

Hott.

Oh, and in case you were won­der­ing, I’m sit­ting in Cam­bridge, the largest city in Mid­dle­sex coun­ty.

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