He was allergic to everything, and had become a total pain in the ass whenever we ate out. He would argue with waitresses about food content and preparation, substitutions and prices. I find myself over-tipping every time I think about it, but then I toast him silently, sadly. It's ironic someone so obsessed with his food allergies would die from food poisoning. Or maybe, on some level, it isn't. Maybe somehow, he just always knew.
Veronica: Ghost Writer. Writer. Ghost.