nice, soft-spoken gentleman
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2003.06.25
The nice woman who runs the restaurant between my gym and my place of employment told me today that I was a 'nice, soft-spoken gentleman'. Either she's a bit touched, or she puts sedatives in the food. She's about seventy, I'd guess. I'm going with the former.