In the midst of this fantasy she refocused to find the bus was nearing Central Park, which a phlegmatic Tony alluded to in passing simply as "a place where lots of people Rollerblade on the weekends." So incensed was Ms. B at this slight to New York's most treasured urban space, she forgot that Tony the tour guide was technically her superior, and cried out that she had been known to Rollerblade through the park on a Tuesday, EN ROUTE TO A DINNER PARTY! A collective sucking-in of breath swept through the tourists on the roof deck, and an attractive couple in their fifties turned to gaze admiringly at this breathing piece of New York in Spandex. Ms. B quickly charmed the cute pair with her sparkly mix of wit, local history, and media savvy, and soon found herself invited to dinner, provided she recommend the restaurant. Luckily for the Johnsons of Auckland, NZ, Ms. B had long cultivated a reputation as something of a gourmand, and she whisked them off to Chilis, an ethnic hideaway frequented solely by real-live Mexicans and enlightened locals. After a few frozen margaritas, Ms. B led the non-smoking section in a conga line through the kitchen to the tune of "Hot Hot Hot," and even the help, usually sullen and contemptuous, happily joined in the fiesta.

So enthralled were they by Ms. B's joie de vivre, the inebriated Johnsons insisted she come along for a sail on their 180 foot yacht bound for a Tuscan villa in Auckland, where it was summer in December and everyone drank beer by the jug full while snacking on roast mutton and watching unhelmeted men bash into each other. The offer was just bizarre enough to strike Ms. B's fickle fancy, so she (quite spontaneously, she would later boast) agreed to set sail the very next morning.

That evening, Stan gently but firmly reminded a panicky Ms. B of the weight limit Rex and Tina Johnson had imposed on her luggage: 200 kilograms. Now, neither Stan nor Ms. B had been schooled in the metric system, but they were almost positive it was based on the number 10. Thinking quickly, Ms. B engaged in some multiplication and triumphantly informed a dubious Stan of her converted weight allotment: 2,000 lbs. All told, Ms. B's seven valises weighed in at a mere 1,972 lbs, and so there was room for the Steve & Eydie albums after all! Ms. B and Stan drank champagne and nibbled on scorched almonds late into the night. Alas, there wasn't much time to reflect on how much she would miss her trusted slave/best friend, for there were nails to be buffed and polished.