Me in Key West with Dominique and one of his Flying Cats.

Quel tired-looking and yet wiggly cat. I adore Dominique, who is of course French. Quel mature-looking and yet hyper man. Ah, the joys of a stage persona, and Mallory Square. I expected the fried conches, later, to be better than they were, probably because I was expecting fried oyster, not hushpuppy.