New York
Election fever is heating up and I hope the party I’m giving on the evening of 3 November will not end in fisticuffs. All my guests except one are Trump-haters, so my dinner looks a bit like the Last Supper in reverse. Never mind. Many who pretend to know are predicting a Biden landslide, including yours truly, so at least I’ll have a reason to drown my troubles in very good Frog red, and serve my guests ordinary Italian white.
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