I hate dinning alfresco

Another take on the word "alfresco".

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I hate alfresco dinning!

London’s weather was as unexpected as Caroline’s face, sunshine a minute and twister another. No way would the dinning go as planned.

But Jane and her beau Charles wanted it. So I packed as instructed.

Carrot, cucumber, zucchini, melons, cherries, oyster, champagne...

I arrived early at the monstrous house of Mr. Darcy, Charles's buddy. He was one hunky meat machine with the most squeeze-worthy butt.

Darcy spoke little but gazed and brooded a lot. I did like a challenge and teased him all I might. That got him all red and panting.

Suddenly, lightning flashed as the phone rang. Jane and Bingley begged off, with urgent Caroline business.

As if I would believe. The sky agreed with me. The heaven opened up, fast. My sister and her beau lied!

The downpour came so abruptly that Mr. Broody and I were all wet in a second. We abandoned the alfresco and dashed into the warm kitchen.

In a warm room with a hot man, I guess you could imagine what happened next.

Mr. Darcy helped me dry the wet dress and we spent the whole night sampling the cucumber, cherries and other goodies.

Since then, I love dinning alfresco.

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Tell me your dinning disaster.