Oh, my god. You knew? Why didn’t you say something? Sweet mother of Mozart, Janice! I think I’m going to be sick.
Do you have any idea how awkward tonight was? I was knee-deep into my anecdote about the Raindrop Prelude—do you know how many times I’ve told that story, Janice?!—when Ricky raised his hand. He actually raised his hand, Janice, like a second grader asking for a hall pass to use the bathroom, a little embarrassed to have to say it out loud but finding it necessary nonetheless. And I’m all, like, “I think I know how to pronounce the name of my favorite composer, Ricky.” Haha.


