Herb and the Ghost Orchid
That’s Herb with an audible “H”, okay? Does it now sound like a noir novel? I think so.
But here is the real story of Herb and the Ghost Orchid:
Last night Rachel and I went to Hotel Congress for a drink. Herb showed us to our table, and we chatted his ear off (between Rachel and me we can outtalk anyone on the planet.) I liked his spectacles and his hair color (taupe? blonde-gray? it’s eerily and wonderfully indescribable) and asked him to describe his personal style. “Simple and comfortable”, he replied.
Onto the drinks: Rachel chose the Ghost Orchid, and reported that it looked as good as it tasted (or tasted as good as it looks).
