No sooner had I landed in San Francisco than the whole kit and kaboodle boogied over to Chinatown restaurant extraordinaire, the House of Nan King. We had ordered the whole left part of the menu, much to the wriggling delight of the waitress who clearly recognized the Lord & Master as soon as we all ambled in (or ran, in my case. I was freezing! I am always freezing in San Francisco.)
As Wiggles chattered away, she blithely whipped something out her purse, then clipped her napkin to a pair of dental clips, like the ones the hygienist uses to clamp the bib on during a cleaning.
“Where did you get those?” I asked.
“The dentist!” Wiggles proudly confirmed. “WHAT?! They keep my shirt clean!”
Don’t believe me? See above visual proof.