When AD went out of town recently, he called me in the evening to see how my day went.
When I asked him how his trip was going, he said fine and then went on to tell me about the hotel.
“I got a suite,” he reported.
“Really?” I said, “You got a chocolate on your pillow? Must be a nice hotel.”
If you were to crack my head open and peek inside, you would not find gray matter, or air as many of you suspect, but Ghiradelli.