The Airman and I are going away this weekend to Panama City. It's a retreat our church is doing and I don't know much about it except that we're going to be staying in a nice hotel and listening to a speaker. I know I should probably just pack normal clothing but I find myself looking again and again at the few nice pieces I have hanging in my closet, dreaming about old black-and-white films. You know, the ones where the main man and woman meet at a classy bar.



She is sitting there, back straight, legs elegantly crossed, sipping her glass of champagne, when he comes along, suit coat unbuttoned, fedora tilted at a rakish angle. Suddenly, she has an overpowering urge for a cigarette, and who should be there ready and willing with a lighter? You guessed it.
Images from weheartit. Don't know whose they are. Let me know if you do.