It is difficult for me to decide what the greatest night of my life has been, so far. Of course, the very first answer that comes to mind is the night that I did it for the first time. Nina was my boss at the DMV, and my new girlfriend. And then, she became the first woman to at last break the bad kind of streak. (The good kind, of course, involves no pants and much running, but that's not the kind of streak I was on.)
But perhaps that is not a completely appropriate subject to discuss. A gentleman does not kiss and tell. Or do it and tell. At least not after he has told his friends. And the people he passes on the street on the way to his friends' house. Or the local newspaper. Ha, Fez is kidding. He did not tell the newspaper. And if he did, they did not want to run the story.
My other greatest night involved my other love, performing.
I know I had told my friends that I had been taking singing classes, but they had all sort of just nodded and gone back to talking about themselves or whatever else they felt like talking about. But that was okay. I knew that there was going to be a recital, and they would finally be able to hear the beautiful instrument I had been honing and hiding for so long. Even my mean singing teacher, Mr. Wilkinson would not be able to ruin it for me.
I was so excited. Red and Miss Kitty came, even Bob. But there was no sign of my friends. I thought about how much I liked my friends, and how much fun we could have, singing and dancing together the way the world should be. I thought about how wonderful it would be to have Red and Miss Kitty as my parents.
And the longer it went without seeing the others, I got worried. I thought about them being in the Circle without me, and singing and dancing and talking about their stupid relationship troubles without me. Even Leo had come! Finally, they showed up and explained: they had been busy toilet papering Mr. Wilkinson's house because they had been listening to me and remembered how much of a stuck-up British ninny he was.
They gave me a present: Mr. Wilkinson's mailbox! And we all sang and danced together in a big, fancy, sequined production number, even if it was only inside my head. But it was still my greatest night ever. Except for the doing it.