what the downside could be

In the end I did not go out last night, which was what I preferred.  It's mysterious how desire changes so quickly.  (It could still change back, of course.)

I saw A in the morning instead, at the piercing studio - which I want to describe as strange but he did tell me he would be there.  We made our appointments independently and so it was not strange, not really.  What was strange is that A is the last person one would normally find in a place like that, with his fresh six-week haircut and humming church hymns as he walks.  But the bereaved want tattoos too, don't they?  Even the conservative, church-going kind of bereaved.

Later in the day I complained to him, via text, that I had no wine.  He delivered some to my door, like dial-a-bottle without a bill to pay.  He is a very lovely person.  I don't really know what to do with that.

*