Is it due to his killing of his poor dolorous taste-buds with that roast-beef, prosciutto and sauerkraut sandwich chased down with a bright orange Cactus Cooler he had for lunch? Please let that be it.
I keep trying but failing to see his eyes light up with pleasure at anything I've offered him. He is really trying too, he is. He sat through six steeps of the lovely Dong Ding, (and may I add from my own perspective, 'Yum'). Last night we bombed out with a Sheng Puerh I was assured men who liked Scotch enjoyed, that was labelled by my darling fella as 'Cigar sitting in water' and later steep notes were limited to, 'Cigar and water with some dirt thrown in it?' My dude is such a trooper. He would have sat through as many steeps of that as I prepared but his sad little face had me throwing in the towel after perhaps the 7th steep.
Hell, I didn't even like it last night, and I like it!
Water over-cooked? Energy in room, phase of the moon? Why do I so often like pretty much everything when I am alone, (aside from things with 'flavor added' or some particularly obviously crappy nasty cheap puerhs sent directly from the bottom of a fishy lake in Hell?)
In his defense, he has 'liked', to a small degree, a few things he has said were 'OK'. He wants me to report fairly on this if report on this I must. But seriously, not liking the Floating Leaves Dong Ding Fragrant Spring 2015? I am grateful he is even willing to try and I 'give it up' metaphorically speaking, to him for knowing that saying to himself "Sure, I'll sit down and let her pour me some of that weird-ass tea" is a damn good way to keep my heart where it belongs, tucked neatly into his pocket.
