Munificent

No one can accuse me of being stingy, which is why I thought it downright rude that these people would join me on my boat last night and fly off the handle like that. As if I had’t already extended every courtesy in the unforeseen event that they might bring along their companions and their canine counterparts. How was I to know that that Pekinese rodent would have some kind of allergy to the hors d’oeuvre made available to them–that trash–by the best chefs in the harbor? And how could I have guessed that Charles Hannigan’s girlfriend’s Mastiff didn’t eat apples, even the organic local apples I collected myself from the orchard round the corner from the quay? What this modern generation needs is a lesson in common courtesy and plain old traditional communication, because I certainly didn’t deserve to be out at sea with a menagerie of nincompoops and their poodles. Some reward for my munificent good deeds.

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