I sat in a restaurant, many floors above the common man, with a large cocktail with two slender black straws with a kink at the end. I grabbed these straws, placed them to my lips, and diddled their lengths as if I was playing a sparkling champagne Miami beach sexed-up squeal on an imaginary sax. I looked at my girlfriend and said "I'm Kenny G!"and swished the straws into a second term of saxual assault.
"Who's Kenny G?" she asked.
"He's exactly the same as Michael Bolton except his hair is the colour of hard wood and he plays the sax", and I saxed it some more.
She had a sip of her cocktail which looked like mine but with a kelp rope of mint deep below.
"I'm Kenny G!" I said in case she didn't hear.
"Yep" she said.