Here on the B-List

Our neighbor across the street, once an ambulance-chasing lawyer, recently metamorphosed himself into a beautiful black-robed judge. The governor appointed him to the bench after some political hobnobbing paid off.

The invite was engraved. Lovely. Said to RSVP by January 18, but we only got the invite on the 19th.

Oh yes. Fillin' up the room with the B-listers. We certainly weren't imperious enough to not go. Never know when a judge will come in handy. Plus I wanted to nibble on rich hors d'vours with all the lawyers in their lighthearted "not-guilty" embroidered ties and scales of justice cufflinks.

It was delightful. Even if the judge's wife did ask us about the plastic rocket hothouse in our front lawn. I will have to take over some of my homegrown tomatos this year.

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