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      • Ramin
      • Posted
      • When first I met Sabre, our eyes locked across a smoke-filled public washroom in Diourbel, in western Senegal, where I had stopped for a brief respite while trekking to Dakar to retrieve a surly pack animal which had earlier given me the slip in Kaolack (Senegalese pack animals are generally quite insolent and prone to chicanery, but then that's neither here nor there). I was enjoying a hastily put together beef Wellington; she was cutting her toenails. I stared intently at Sabre because I was consumed with the distinct feeling that I had seen her face before this fateful meeting. It was unbearably hot in the hut-cum-publick house and I was dizzy; the pack animal had earlier bitten my hindquarters and I was angry at not having avenged the unwarranted attack; there was a man, toothless yet cocksure, spitting on the back of my neck in what could only have been a local ritual and I was annoyed. Sabre soothed my pain. I whirled around to confront the slack-jawed brigand when I spied a portrait, affixed to the mud-brick wall with nothing more than hope and humidity, of Sabre, nude but for the green, yellow and red of the Senagalese flag. It was draped across her ample bosom resplendently. I was awe-struck. Panting, I made my way across the room to greet this royal Senagalese seductress. She received me warmly, with a grin and a wave of her hand, which, incidentally, was attached to a large cocktail. She consoled me, yelling something at the crowd that soothed most of them but seemed to have an overwhelming effect on one young man. Either that or the guy actually had a heart attack when she yelled. Regardless, it was clear that I had found the woman who would help me find my wayward camel. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a few more moments to write of Sabre! I pen this as I lie prostrate atop the broad back of an albino elephant, one of only three known to exist, which is marching slowly but steadily to the top of a peak that shall remain nameless. My Sherpa refuses to deodorize himself, has a scorching case of shingles and will not relinquish my lucky Star Wars blanket. Needless to say, my mood is less than ebullient. So, alas, I leave you. But know this: he who meets this woman will find his camel.
      • Guru
      • Posted
      • For all novices, new acquaintances, future heart-broken suitors and defeated opposing counsels, I have compiled the following primer* on Sabre K. Esq.

        She: 1) prefers savory to sweet at all times; 2) has never encountered a martini that was "too dirty;" 3) has seriously considered switching to diet of nothing but tacos and ice cream; 4) trumpets the virtues of lip-gloss and glitter to all she meets; 5) is irresistible to 42 year-old Jakartan divorcees; 6) has a voice that jumps to the middle fifth whenever excited; 7) and nothing short of a straight jacket, quaaludes or trance music can prevent her from dancing at any given time.

        While in the average person these qualities may demand a timely referral to Bellevue, in Sabre they merely result in a quirky charm which has officially claimed 46 victims to date.

        *Disclaimer of use: This primer does not endorse the use of dirty martinis, lip-gloss or quaaludes when interacting with Sabre, but it really couldn#8217;t hurt.
      • Bharath
      • Posted
      • A friend when she didn't have to be.
        She's all that...
      • Amy
      • Posted
      • Sabre is one hippy chick! I should know, I've
        known her well before her brilliant lawyer
        days when she was just a wee thing. Her
        sense of humor is unparalleled, and her
        laughter contagious. She knows the answer
        to most every ill, has the ability to make
        magic toast, and her mother is the most
        fabulous trivial pursuit player ever born. If
        you are lucky enough to know Sabre, you
        will never forget her.
      • Joanne
      • Posted
      • Sabre is the best travelling companion
        on earth. She doesn't even mind when I
        want to watch the video of the plane
        barely moving on the tv screen on the
        back of the airplane seats for 8
        hours. She's also the only person I
        know who agrees with me that vodka
        tonics and donuts at the Model in
        Boston is a proper breakfast. Sabre is
        a sparkly princess and I miss her!!
      • Julie
      • Posted
      • Damn you, New York!! You're taking my
        main damie Sabre from me and I don't
        like it one bit. You have taken the
        sparkly ball from my disco. All
        bitterness and loneliness aside, Sabre
        always, always makes me smile and I
        think imagine that someday we'll be old
        and eccentric and shopping at Filene's
        Basement for brightly colored socks for
        our grandkids.
      • Gretchen
      • Posted
      • Sabre is super sassy and I love her and
        miss her so much!!! I wish she would
        just move back to Philly so we can go
        to Franks and drink vodka shots and
        pass out on her bathroom floor after
        singing show tunes at the Cheap Art.....
      • Kyra
      • Posted
      • My cous Sabe is just about the coolist,
        hippist chica around. She can kick it
        on the beach or in a trendy bar. She
        has a sharp wit and intelligence that
        few surpass. Her only flaw; taking so
        long to move to NYC!
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