I make myself a ****** in a river rushing with hopeful ambition.
I listen to the whispers and jot mental notes on the subleties of conversation:
The gilded mistakes of over confidence and deviancy.
The honesty of misreading a situation.
The defeat in his voice, darkening eyes and flattened smile when she affirms the 'no' with which the conversation began.
All in all, a quite enjoyable evening for the ******.